The Deserter
by pvt jim
Summary: Specialist Mason was there to try and stop the infection but abandoned his post instead. Now alone and after seeing many friends and comrades ripped to pieces he has grown numb caring about nothing. Some would even say he has lost his humanity until he met her. Strange that something that isn't human would help him feel human again. Rated M for violence language & sexual content.
1. Desertion

He ran as fast as he could trying to keep up with the person in front of him, his equipment rattling as he ran. Sweat poured from under his helmet and streamed down his face and onto his neck soaking his shirt. He ran, his and the others' boots making a steady whump, whump sound their magazines chattering and clicking as they swung on their web gear. He was starting to fall behind the others but wasn't the last one yet. He pulled his rifle closer to his chest and ducked his head as he increased his speed slightly. He caught back up his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body armor and web gear constricted his chest.

"Let's go!" A sergeant shouted standing still as his troops ran past him. "Get to the fucking line! Let's go! Let's go!" He passes the sergeant close enough that he slapped him on the back. "Move! Move! Move!" He ran even faster his feet starting to hurt having slapped the pavement so hard for so long without a break. Soon he started up the metal stairs his boots making it ring out as he slowed to keep from bumping into the soldier in front of him as he climbed the stairs as well. The soldier behind him hadn't managed to slow in time and bumped into him causing him to almost drop his rifle. He would've fallen if his last step hadn't been on to the catwalk. He turned sharply to his right and followed the soldier in front of him. It was a short run and then the other soldier stopped turning to face the street resting his rifle on the catwalk's rail. He stopped as well turning to face the same direction and rested his rifle on the rail as well, getting shoulder to shoulder with the fellow soldier. The soldier that was behind him did the same resting his rifle on the rail and getting shoulder to shoulder with him. After a few more seconds the entire platoon was on the catwalk that had been built over the high fence that separated the quarantine zone from rest of the city and the world.

"Steady. Steady now," The sergeant said jogging up and down the catwalk behind his men. "They'll be coming soon. Don't fire till you're ordered to." The sergeant squeezed in-between him and the soldier next to him. "Remember get a good sight picture and to just squeeze the trigger. It'll be just like a day at the ranges, right son?" The sergeant asked him.

"Roger that sergeant," He said fighting to keep the waver out of his voice.

"Good," The sergeant said patting him on the back of the helmet causing it to slide forward partially obstructing his vision. The sergeant pulled himself away from the rail and went back to jogging behind his men. He used his thumb to push his helmet back up and he re-shouldered his rifle as he peered into the distance. The forward observers had radioed the advance of the hoard two minutes ago. It couldn't have been at a worse time the sun was already going down and now it was all put gone from the sky everything having a orange tint to it. The moisture from the morning rain had come back as a low creeping fog that hugged the street. Not only was it very creepy but it was hindrance as well. As the light reflected of the fog it turned orange as well making it seem like it was on fire. A screech was heard echoing through the air, followed by the chattering of equipment as the soldiers shifted their aim looking for targets.

"Steady. Steady boys," The sergeant said still jogging up and down the catwalk. "Wait for a good sight picture and for them to come into range." More screeches were heard echoing through the air but the ones doing the screaming still went unseen. He flip his rifle from safe to semi and pressed his eye closer to its rear sight. A moment later the first of the infected came into sight just like a child's nightmare, walking out of the fog. First hundreds then thousands, then tens of thousands came running out of the fog with more behind them still hidden by the eerie mist. A fresh sheen of sweat burst force onto his forehead as his hands began to shake. The mob sprinted towards the barrier and the soldiers on top of it howling madly. He held his fire as ordered as his front and rear sight started to waver as his hands shook more violently. He took a deep breath in and held it, like he used to do when he was at the range when his nerves would start to get the better of him. He exhaled slowly shortly afterwards his heart still thumped but his hands shook less and he was able to steady his rifle as the infected charged them.

"Fix bayonets!" The sergeant shouted. It was a strange order, an order that hadn't been issued in a long time. But they were soldiers and if nothing else could be said about basic training and the Army they were training and drilled to follow orders at the drop of a hat, no matter how strange them may seem. He hesitated only long enough to process the order and a second later he flipped his rifle back to safe and lowered it so the butt was on the catwalk the barrel pointing straight up. He pulled his bayonet for its sheath on the belt of his web gear, and locked it into place under his rifle's barrel. It was a good thing he was infantry because they were the only ones that still got bayonets anymore. He re-shouldered his rifle being one of the last to do so just as the front of the hoard neared the first range maker. When they had built the barrier they had placed flags to let them know a target's range the max was at 300 meters. They were ordered to not engage targets more than 300 meters out to ensure they remained accurate. He didn't think it really matter at this point since there was so many and even the sergeant thought so since he had them fix bayonets meaning he thought they would be fighting them close.

"Open fire!" The sergeant shouted just as the first infected reached the 300 meter flag. The line of soldiers opened up the infected acted as if they had run into a wall stopping dead in their tracks and then pitching forward. The first of the infected were shredded as rounds torn into them but more, right behind them, were willing to throw themselves at the soldiers and take their place. He didn't really notice all he could think about was aim and fire, aim and fire, aim and fire as fast as he could pull the trigger. They were so tightly packed on that catwalk that he could feel the spent rounds ejecting from the soldier on his left rifle hitting the side of his helmet and shoulder. He knew his was doing the same to the soldier on his right as well. As if to emphasize that a shell from the soldier on the left flew pass his face just missing the tip of his noise, he still felt the heat from it and the smell of gun powder was overwhelming. His bolt locked back on an empty magazine he reacted quickly pushing the magazine release and tilting the rifle back slightly letting the magazine fall to the catwalk. His left hand reached into a pouch on his web gear and pulled a full one out, he shoved it home and slapped the bolt release with practiced ease.

He resumed firing the soldiers had killed hundreds but thousands took their place. Soon he had emptied three more magazines and thousands of infected had been killed but still more just charged over their dead brethren. The first of the infected slammed into the fence and started to climb it after he had emptied two more of his magazines. He like the others shifted his aim pointing his rifle straight down, slightly leaning over the railing to fire on the infected that climbed the fence. As the fire shifted downwards it let the other infected surge forward and soon they were at the bottom of the fence climbing on it and each other trying to reach the soldiers. Despite the danger the infected present this was actually better for them as the infected were easier to hit and the easiest thing to hit as they climbed was their head. When an infected got too close to the catwalk a soldier would slash or stab them with their bayonet. The sergeant had made the right call having them fix bayonets he thought as he drove the tip of his through the skull of an infected as it tried to grab his ankles. He pulled his rifle back the bayonet popped out of its head with a sucking sound. It fell from the fence as the life left it, when it did it hit others as they tried to climb and knocked them to the ground again. He fired point blank into more infected as they tried to reach the catwalk.

"That's right keep 'em back boys!" The sergeant shouted over the gunfire and screams of the infected. "Runners! I need runners! Grab empty mags from the line and get full ones from the ammo point! Double time! Move! Move! Move!" A few solders pulled themselves from the rail, safetied their rifles and ran along the catwalk collecting empty magazines. One of them slapped him on the shoulder and he handed him his empties. Another runner seconds behind the first handed him a bandolier with six full magazines and he looped the strap around his right shoulder. He didn't have the time to place them into his web gear's pouches and just pulled the magazines from the bandolier hanging from his arm. The dead infected had started to pile up at the foot of the fence creating a staircase out of bodies that only aided the infected. The soldiers were in a frenzy and didn't notice as all they did was shoot, stab, and slash at the infected trying to keeping them back and off the fence. He sliced his rifle in a short arch the bayonet slicing open an infected's neck. It still wasn't dead as it fell a short distance before it latched back onto the fence and started to climb back up until he put a round through its head. He felt something wet and slimy hit him in the face and he looked over just in time to see the soldier on his left be pulled from the catwalk and into the hoard of infected below. He watched in horror as another soldier was entangled by the long slimly tongue of a mutated infected. A second later he too was pulled from the catwalk and fell into the mob of infected below where he was literally ripped to pieces.

"Gene!" He shouted. "10 o'clock high on the roof of the red brick building!" He switched his aim seeing the two tall and lengthy infected that had abnormally long tongues. He switched to burst and fired once all three rounds hitting one square in the chest, it stumbled back but remained alive and on its feet. He fired again the next three rounds taking it higher, as he let the rifle's recoil walk the barrel up, hitting the chest and one passing through its shoulder but still it remained alive. His third shot, which was actually three, took it even higher hitting its neck, face and forehead. That finally knocked it on its ass a large cloud of smoke emerged from its body covering the other one in a smoke screen. He shifted his aim emptying his magazine into the smoke screen where the other one had been, but when the smoke cleared the other one had disappeared. "We have a Gene on the loose!" He shouted as he reloaded before firing into the hoard of infected as the pile at the foot of the fence grew.

The military had given code names to the infected including the mutations, since they have to give code names to everything. The common infected were called Zulus since the enlisted called them zombies but command wouldn't allow them to, saying it would cause panic amongst the civilians. So the enlisted started calling them Zulu which was the phonetic alphabet word for Z which itself stood for zombie. Not the most imaginative name but they thought they were clever beating their superiors. The ones with the long tongues were given the name Gene and it didn't take a genius to figure out why command had decided to name them that if one remember their rock history. The other mutation, the only other one that was known to the military, was the one that could leap great distances and climb on objects while moving at great speed, they were called Jack. There were debates amongst the enlisted half saying their name was sort for Jack in the box because they jumped out and pounce on their target. The other half said that was stupid and it was short for Jack the ripper since it had sharp claws which it used to rip its target apart and favored hooded sweat shirts. It didn't really matter to him he thought they were all stupid names and wondered why they had to have code names to begin with. He didn't care as he pulled the last magazine from his bandolier and shoved it into his rifle's lower receiver. He felt someone slap him on the shoulder again, the runner making a second round. He happily gave up his empty bandolier in exchange for a full one. He stopped firing to shove the magazines into the pouches on his web gear, not really sure why, he just knew he felt like he should that time. He had just finished, re-shouldered his rifle, and pressed his eye back up to its sight when a roar rumbled through the dusk air.

Out of the fog came something that none of them had ever seen before, and it was massive. As it lumbered towards them it started to gain speed. Its upper body was huge rippling with muscles but it's lower body was still that of a normal human. It let out a roar as it used one of its massive arms to shove infected out of the way that ran around it. There is no way that thing was ever human, he thought as he kicked an infected's head as it grabbed the lower rail of the catwalk, knocking it back to the ground. His rifle was still on burst and he fired an entire magazine at it even though it was outside of the 300 meter range. It didn't matter the thing was huge and he hit it with every shot. It didn't even slow in fact it only seemed to piss it off more. The sergeant saw the behemoth as it charged them, they all did.

"Shift fire! Shift fire!" The sergeant shouted. "First and second squads keep the fuckers off the fence! The rest take that big motherfucker out!" They reacted quickly half firing on the infected that climbed the fence adding to the pile at the bottom the highest point now reaching the middle of the fence. The rest fired on the charging monster most of their rounds hitting it but a few stray rounds drilling infected that ran around it as they also charged the fence. The rounds had little effect on it as it neared the 300 meter mark, the sergeant saw this. He had just reloaded and was about to empty a second magazine into the thing when the sergeant slapped him on the shoulder. "Get an AT4 and blow that bastard straight to hell!" The sergeant ordered.

"Yes sergeant!" He shouted. "Moving sergeant!" He placed his rifle on safe and pulled himself away from the railing and ran towards the stairs. His feet hit pavement a second later and he was running again but this time in the opposite direction. He passed the runners as they carried more full bandoliers to the line. He ran past them and he reached the ammo point that was surrounded by loops of razor wire. He ran into the gap and started rummaging around the boxes of ammo looking for the AT4s. He found the large flat box underneath several other boxes and quickly shoved them off as he knelt to open the wood box. He tired to open the box but it was nailed shut, and he reacted quickly by using the bayonet that was still attached to his rifle and shoved it in-between the lid and the box. He pushed down on the stock and the lid lifted up pulling the nails with it. He used his fingers to left the lid completely off the box and looked behind him, back towards the catwalk and fence. The soldiers still were hamming the infected, thousands more had been killed by their hand but still more ran out of the fog, it seemed the whole city was after them. The pile had gotten taller and wider as well spilling back into the street more. Then the roar of the monster echoed through the air again snapping him out of it and he turned back towards the box of AT4s.

He pulled one of the tubes out of the box and cradled it in his arms. He pulled the safety pin, flipped down the shoulder rest, flipped up the sights and moved the charging leveler to the firing position. With the rocket launcher mostly armed he throw his rifle's sling over his shoulder and snatched up the AT4 and started running back towards the line. He was only half way there when there was a horrible screech of metal twisting and breaking as the monster crashed through the fence. When it did not only did it bust a hole in the fence but it destroyed the section of catwalk directly above it. The soldiers on that section were scattered as they were thrown into the air most landing in the hoard of infected one unlucky bastard landed in front of the monster as it still charged forward. The beast didn't stop as it crushed him with its massive size as it continued forward. Following right behind it was the rest of the hoard flowing in like water through a busted dam. He saw the beast coming right at him, he jumped to the side landing hard on his stomach the massive thing just missing him. It only stopped once it plowed into the tent he had been calling home for the past few days. As it crashed into it, the canvas knocked loose of its supports fell around and onto it entangling it. It thrashed around angrily trying to free itself but it only wrapped the canvas around itself even tighter. He scrambled to a kneeling position and shouldered the launcher taking aim at the thing that was trapped in the tent. He jammed his thumb down on the firing button the tube slammed back against his shoulder as the rocket left the tube. It hit the creature square in the back but it didn't explode, the range was too short and the rocket didn't arm itself in time. It was still a rocket however and it punched right through it leaving a large hole when it entered and a massive one as it exited the beast's inside exploding out behind the rocket. It slumped to the ground the section of tent that it was holding up gently fell around it.

He let the smoking launcher slip from his shoulder and fall to the ground. He took his rifle off his shoulder and started running back to the line. More infected were pouring through the hole in the fence. The soldiers that remained on the catwalk fired at odd angles into the ones that ran through the gap starting a new pile. Still more had made it through the fire and were charging the stairs as some soldiers tried to stop them. The narrow stairs was the perfect fatal funnel as their rounds cut through multiple infected at once their bodies creating a natural barrier they had to climb over. The infected were relentless in their charge however as one of them jumped the pile and skewered itself on the end of a soldier's bayonet. The infected didn't seem to care as it still reached for the soldier pushing the bayonet deeper into its torso. An infected right behind it slammed into its back pushing it further onto the bayonet and rifle barrel, the end of the barrel actually sticking out of the infected's back. More infected slammed into the soldier as he started to lose his balance and fell backwards the pile of infected landing on top of him and started ripping him apart. As the infected started to storm the catwalk the other soldiers started to jump from the catwalk and run towards him. One was in an all out sprint and passed him heading away from the line.

"Run for it!" He screamed panic in his voice as he ran by him. "The line can't hold!" He watched him run for his life thinking less of him but not very much for the situation did seem hopeless. More soldiers started to run from the line as the infected swarmed around them pouring in through the gap as others climbed the fence spilling onto the catwalk.

"Form a new line!" The sergeant was shouting trying to rally his troops. "Form a new line here!" He shouted making a stand a good distance from the fence and the massive gap the infected were pouring through. He took aim with his pistol and fired into the charging hoard adding to the pile of bodies. A few soldiers continued to run passing the sergeant a feral look in their eyes as they ran for their lives. The remaining ones stopped and turned forming a horseshoe facing the gap and fired into the hoard. The infected were ripped apart as they tried to pass through the gap, acting as a funnel which was working better then the catwalk and fence. He saw this and ran towards them wanting to do his part. He was almost there when he heard the screech of Jack as several of them leapt over the fence landing on the sergeant and other soldiers and started ripping them apart their body armor only giving them an extra second of meaningless life. Losing their leader and half their remaining number in seconds was the last straw. The remaining soldiers panicked, broke ranks and ran away from the line as the infected surged through unchallenged now. Most catching up to the soldiers that were the furthest behind unable to outrun them in full gear. A fleeing soldier bumped into his shoulder and it snapped him out of it. He turned and ran as well seeing no point staying and fighting.

He clutched his rifle close to his chest as he ran hearing the infected closing the gap. He heard the screech of Jack as one leapt past him landing on and pining the soldier that had bumped him. Jack started ripping in to his torso, blood spraying around him in wide arches. He changed directions heading right for the helpless comrade, lowing his rifle's barrel the bayonet was still attached to. He jammed the blade into Jack's back as he lunged forward actually lifted the infected off of the soldier with the blade. As he lifted the mutation into the air he fired point blank into its back the rounds tearing him apart as it screeched in pain. He flung his rifle to the side the dead infected falling off the end of his rifle. He stopped and looked at Jack's victim, he lay unmoving on the ground, his chest and gut shredded blood beginning to pool under and around him. He was about to start running again when the bleeding soldier spoke.

"Mason," He croaked blood bubbling from his mouth. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me man." Mason looked at the bleeding man and knew he wasn't going to make it, he then looked back at the infected hoard as it neared them. "Please man you can't leave me." The dying soldier pleaded weakly raising a hand for Mason to grab. Mason shouldered his rifle and fired a round through the dying soldier's head just before he started to run again. He looked behind him to see the infected that would have been after him stop and start to rip into the soldier he just killed, finish off he remained himself. He reached the ammo point and grabbed as many magazine as his pouches could hold and filled them. He then grabbed several full bandoliers and looped them over his shoulders and arms. He checked on the hoard behind him and saw the more were stopping to eat the soldier but even more were running past him and he didn't have much time. He rushed into the collapsed tent and grabbed his packed rucksack, threw it over one shoulder and started to run again. He ducked into an alley and around a corner as the hoard chased after the other fleeing soldiers only have them in sight. He stood there, back pressed against the wall, breathing heavily, rifle held to his chest, listening for the infected. He could hear them running, the crack of rifle shots, and the scream of dying comrades but none turned down his alley. Mason stuffed the extra magazines into the rucksack before he pulled it onto both his shoulder wearing it right. He started to walk down the alleyway only one word echoing around in his head: _Deserter_ but at least he was still alive.


	2. Numb

Two weeks. It only took two weeks after the first recorded case of the infection for the world to turn to shit. A lot had happen to him in those two weeks. On the night he ran he hadn't gotten far when he ran into another squad of soldiers. To call them a squad was an overstatement they were just other lost and fleeing soldiers from different units, none were from his, that had decided to stick together. They still function liked a squad, had a chain of command, a mission, orders and more importantly they had supplies. They didn't really give him a choice about joining up with them the corporal in charge pretty much ordered him to come along. He didn't mind thinking it would be safer with them and he looked at it as a kind of penance for deserting his post. The corporal in charge asked him what unit he was from he told him and about the breach in the line. The corporal told him their line had been breached as well at nearly the same time, it seemed every infected had charged all the lines at once to ensure the soldiers were spared thin. If he didn't know any better he would have thought it was a coordinated assault. They were going to move towards the airport that was serving as the FOB eventually. However he then told them they had a mission: They were looking for any civilians to evacuate that didn't get out of the safe zone before it was breached before they pulled out of the city completely.

Things were alright for the first few days. The squad had a command post set up in a convenience store for which power still ran. There was food, light and air conditioning, they even had a long range radio to keep in touch with the FOB. They would send all but two out into the city and search for any survivors during the day leaving the two behind to guard the CP. When they found any they would take them back to the store and every night a small convoy would arrive to pick up the refugees and drop off ammo and other supplies to them. But as the days went on and the infected spread more though out the city they were forced to abandon the CP in fear of being overran. They started moving towards the airport then, the mission of rescuing civilians on the way side now. They would stop and make camp for the night after checking in with the FOB moving only during the day. Then one night the FOB never responded. Then they started taking losses, the worse was when one of them would be bitten or infected in some other way but wouldn't have died from the wounds. They would either have to draw straws to see who the executioner would be or watch them kill themselves. Soon he found himself alone again, the only survivor once again.

He awoke as he always did, suddenly and snatching up his rifle that was never far from his side. He got to his feet, shouldered his rifle and turned in a slow circle scanning the room. He found it empty and the wooden door of the bedroom that he was using for the night, was still shut and firmly bolted. He lowered the rifle and flipped it back on safe before slinging it over his shoulder. He picked up his BDU jacket and pulled it on fighting with his rifle's sling. He then buttoned it up carefully as not to wrinkle it. His jacket said he was a soldier in the US Army, his last name was Mason and he had reached the rank of specialist. The crossed rifles on his collar opposite of his rank meant he was an infantry grunt. The patch on his left arm said he was part of the 13th Infantry company and the patch on his right arm said he had been deployed with them, the badge above the Army tag meant he had even seen combat. But a tour in the sand had not compared to what he had seen over the past few weeks.

Mason walked over to the attached bathroom pulling a razor from his sleeve pocket. Not only was the water running here but there was still power so there was even hot water. Using the water only he shaved his face to keep it with in Army standards. Why he did this was the same reason he only wore his uniform(washing it when he could) and keeping everything neat and will maintained(the best he could). He did it because he found a strange comfort in the routine as if he was still in the military(he technically was but there really wasn't a military anymore, at least in this city) and was just another day in garrison. Then in the back of his mind he thought that maybe, just maybe if he ran into a functioning unit they would rotate him out of this fucking city.

After he finished shaving he dropped to the floor and did the minim number of push-ups and sit-ups to pass his fitness test. He did it to stay sharp and it also made it feel like another day in garrison. After that he rolled up his foam sleeping mat he had laid next to the bed, for he never felt right sleeping in someone else's bed no matter the circumstance. He put it through the top loops on the outside of his rucksack. After that he pulled his scuffed and dinged combat boots on his feet and laced them up tucking his BDU pants into them. The last thing he pulled on was his improved web gear, slipping his arms through the harnesses.

He buckled the belt around his waist and pulled it down so most of the weight was on the shoulder harness. When comrades had fallen he had not only relived them of their ammo but their pouches as well. His gear was now covered in pouches as not an inch of the harness and belt went unused. The front and sides of the belt were filled with the ammo pouches. Along the back was filled with as many full canteens as the belt would hold. Grenades were clipped to the shoulder harness along with his flashlight and medical pouch. He pulled his rucksack onto his shoulders and pulled them tight before he strapped his helmet on top of his head. The last thing he did was check to make sure there was a chambered round in his rifle before he moved towards the door.

Mason slid the lock back on the door and opened it slowly and quietly, he checked the hallway with rifle shouldered. The room he had spent the night in was clear but he couldn't be sure about the rest of the house. He moved slowly down the stairs walking heel to toe sweeping with his rifle. He had left the lights off as not to draw any more attention during the night but enough sunlight was trickling in granting him good sight. He moved down the stairs without contact and turned right into the kitchen sweeping it quickly. He saw her then standing in the far corner with her back to him. Seeing her made his blood turn to ice, there was no doubt now, she was following him. He had dealt with her kind firsthand only once before but that had been enough.

It had been when he was still with the ragtag squad and still looking for civilians. They were running behind and night had fallen on them, but they weren't worried as they still had batteries for their night vision goggles. The world was turned to shades of greens as they moved quickly down the street heading back to the store having been unsuccessfully in finding any civilians. That seemed to be the case as of late as the infected's already large number grew even more. This was the last night at the store before it was overran and their first time they suffered a loss. They were passing a hardware store with a smashed out front window when Baker had heard crying. He had looked inside and in the green of his NVGs he had seen a woman sitting in a corner crying. Having never come across anyone like this before, but knowing the infected didn't cry he called out to them, everyone moving in on the store. They halfway aimed their rifles at her but had their fingers off the triggers figuring her a distort survivor.

Baker had called out to her trying to get her attention and to walk to them slowly hands in the air. She didn't say anything only continued to cry softly and rocked slightly. In the green of the NVGs Baker couldn't see her pale skin color and her arms were crossed, held tightly to her chest making her hands invisible to the soldiers. Baker had decided that she was just in shock and was going in to try and get her to come with them. Wilson had said they should just leave her and get back to the CP before a hoard showed up. Mason had said nothing but had agreed with Wilson, but Baker had insisted that she needed help and couldn't just leave her. So he took his light rain jacket from his smaller assault pack and started to move towards her slowly and carefully. The rest had stayed behind covering him this time raising and aiming their rifles at her.

As Baker advanced on her he was saying how they were just there to help, they weren't going to hurt her and they were going to get her to some place safe. He reached her without her even lifting her head, the rest of the soldiers tensioned as Baker leaned in. He gently and carefully placed the jacket around her shoulders the first step in treating a victim for shock. She stopped crying suddenly and lifted her head in surprise gasping slightly. Baker then told her that it was going to be ok and to please get to her feet if she could. She got to her feet slowly the jacket still around her shoulders, the soldiers to include Mason, had lowered their rifles slightly thinking she was going to come along quietly.

She suddenly let out a shrill shriek that stunned them all as she whipped around to face Baker. In the NVGs they could see her glowing eyes and the claws she had for hands. Before any of them could react she had grabbed Baker by the neck, lifted him up, and used her other claw to stab him in the gut. She had stabbed him five times in the chest and gut her sharp claws easily going past his body armor. After stabbing she started to slash blood flying in wide arches all around her. This had all happen in a second her speed was blinding and by now the soldiers were firing at her and were hitting her but she didn't seem to care as rounds punched through her body. Taking way more rounds then it should have she finally fell to the ground dropping Baker's mangled body as well. Mason couldn't tell where Baker's blood and insides ended and hers started. They didn't know what she was but they had learned their lesson and learned the rules fast when more of them started to appear: No lights, no sounds, don't touch.

He had learned what other survivors called them and thought it a good name as any: A Witch. This one was different from the other he had seen as all the others cried but she remained silent not even a sob passed her lips. Also as where the others seem to pick a spot(usually in a very inconvenient location) and stay there till they are disturbed or killed, she moved around. Not that he had seen this and she would remain standing completely still in a location, but none the less he knew she was moving. He knew this because there was a small tattoo of a lizard on her right shoulder it was this tattoo he used to name her. He called her Liz and was scared to death of her. He had first noticed her once he was on his own again, she was in an alleyway he had turned down standing near a dumpster her back to him.

Mason had snapped up his rifle thinking her a normal infected and was about to put two through her back when he looked a little closer. She may have not been crying but she still had very pale skin and white hair and this caused him to hold his fire. She had turned around then even though he had made no noise and he saw her glowing red eyes and sharp claws. He lowered his rifle and started to back away slowly as she watched him. Once he had lost sight of her he turned and jogged away doubling back and after consulting his map went a different route. He had stayed in a kid's tree house that night at least a few miles for that alley. When he had awoke he had seen her standing in a yard five houses down, he was only able to see her while he scanned the area with his field glasses before climbing down.

He knew it was the same one for it wasn't crying and was standing there looking in his direction. A chill had gone down his spin as he lowered the field glasses and climbed down from the tree house. He didn't see her again that day but once he had awoken the next day she was near an over turned car a block from the roof top he had passed the night on. So that is how it went: losing her every day, he figured she must have been moving while he was sleeping, and the next day she would be near him. It wasn't the following him that really concerned him too much for the other infected seemed to avoid her as much as they could as well, which helped him. It was that she seemed to be getting bolder, getting closer to him when he awoke.

Now she was in the same house as him and that froze his blood in his veins. She must be hunting me Mason thought. It made sense to him since they seemed to be passive creatures so the way she hunted was passive as well. Soon he would wake up and she would be staring him in the face just before she ripped out his throat. He briefly thought about putting a round through her head but knew it wouldn't drop her and his rifle only fired on burst not full auto so he didn't think he could drop her before she got to him. Moving slowly and quietly through the kitchen he entered the living room without her noticing him. He was about to move to the front door when he saw the door was open and there was an infected standing near the door. It too had his back to him resting his head on his arm as he leaned against the wall the closest thing to sleeping he had seen them do.

Mason froze as he sized the situation up. The infected hadn't noticed him yet but he couldn't leave without him noticing him. He had to take him out but how? It was a playground shot for his rifle but the noise would startle her and then he'd be screwed. He looked to this bayonet that was still attached to his rifle, he hadn't removed it since that night. However it had become dull from overuse and he didn't think he could drive it into the infected's skull in one strike and he would sound the alarm.

Making his mind up Mason slowly crept up behind the infected. Once he stood directly behind him he threw his rifle over the infected's head and pulled it back one hand on the stock the other on the end of the barrel. The rifle's barrel was crushing the infected's windpipe as he was pulled back into Mason. The infected started to struggle and thrash but no sound came for its mouth for it couldn't make any as Mason strangled it. As it thrashed it arms around wildly Mason gritted his teeth and pulled back on his rifle harder leaning back pulling the infected with him its feet leaving the ground. The infected started to slow as he failed to draw in air. Once the infected finally went limp Mason gently lowered him to floor his ears cocked for the sound of her footsteps.

Once he heard none he jammed the bayonet through its eye and into its brain to ensure it was dead. He moved into the outside world sweeping it before he started moving down the street. He was in a suburb and still a ways away from the airport, his progress was slow since he moved only during the day, sticking to side streets and trails when he could thinking he could avoid most of the infected. He moved down the street till he came to one marked 5th and turned right onto it following the route he had planned last night. He moved at a slow walk rifle at the low ready scanning every window, doorway, alleyway, yard and car he came across. The street was pretty much deserted but he still moved his body tense as if they would suddenly jump out at him and they had many times before. He started down a gently sloping hill when a sound reached his ears he had gotten familiar with, running feet on pavement. He moved from the middle of the street and crouched down behind a car, shouldering his rifle, resting the barrel on the hood and switching it to semi.

He then heard another sound he come to know even before the outbreak, the crack of gunshots in the distance. There was no accompanying snap or wiz so the shorts weren't aimed at him and they sounded too quick meaning the shooter probably wasn't aiming. Mason put together a likely scenario: A survivor, probably civilian, was running from a group of Zulus and firing blindly as they ran missing most of their shots. He no longer heard shots but could still hear the sound of feet on pavement and they were getting closer. And now he's out of ammo, Mason thought and I bet he's coming right for me was his second. Mason peered into the distance and could see he indeed was right: a lone survivor with at least 10 Zulus chasing him and they were gaining. He was running up the street toward Mason's position.

Sighing deeply Mason thumbed his rifle from semi to burst, he didn't need this, this early in the day. As they neared Mason could see the survivor was a boy maybe 16 with a tattered backpack on his back and a pistol in his right had the slide locked back the magazine clearly empty. He had a good lead on the Zulus but they were starting to catch up as he started up the hill Mason was on top of. Mason held his fire since the kid was running in the middle of the street and he would have to shoot around him to engage the Zulus. Then the kid tripped falling on all fours in the middle of the street only halfway up the hill. Mason had two options let the infected eat the kid and slip away, or kill the Zulus and waste ammo.

Sighing deeply again Mason opened fire the rounds flying over the kid as he started to get back up but once he heard the shots he dropped to his stomach again and started to crawl forward. Mason's first burst hit the lead infected a man wearing ripped jeans and no shirt in the chest, center mass he pitched forward and fell to the ground dead. The rest of the group stepped over him as Mason fired again, then again only pausing to switch targets. The kid meanwhile made it up the hill and pass Mason safely out of his line of fire. He watched as this man killed the infected methodically, without hesitation and with ease. Every time he fired he hit one of them he had never seen someone as focused as the man was, he fired then moved his rifle and fired again. Suddenly he stopped firing even as two more infected still charged up the hill getting dangerously close.

He watched as the man tilted his rifle back something falling from it and knew it was a magazine, he's out of ammo the kid thought in horror, sure they would be overwhelmed now. Instead the man's left hand dropped to his belt stayed there for half a second and then shoved something into his rifle just before he slapped the side. He fired twice more killing the other two infected having only taken two seconds to reload something the kid would have thought impossible. Suddenly the man twisted around aiming his weapon in the opposite direction. When he had turned he had dropped it slightly as to not point it at the boy as he turned before snapping it up. He fired three more times killing three more infected that had come out of the houses behind them to see what was happening. The kid hadn't even heard them but the man did even while he was shooting, maybe this man was the answers to his prays for help.

After dropping the last three Zulus Mason swept the area behind him again to ensure no more were coming. He was about the to put his rifle on safe when the kid said something.

"Hey thanks man," The kid said a little sheepishly. "I thought I was screwed." Mason turned to face him aiming his rifle square at his chest. He was so focused on the Zulus he had forgotten the kid was even there, sloppy. "Whoa hey man just take it easy." The kid said raising his arms above his head. "You're a soldier right? Can you help m-"

"Drop your weapon!" Mason ordered shouting starting to side step around the kid to throw off his aim.

"What?" The kid asked confused.

"Drop your weapon now!" Mason shouted. "This is your last warning! I will fire!" The kid looked confused and then he remembered the pistol in his hand and looked at it. He dropped it suddenly as if it was hot, it landed at his feet. "Kick it away from you!" Mason ordered rifle still aimed still slowly side stepping. The kid complied kicking the pistol away from him it didn't slide very far on the rough pavement but it was out of reach of him. "Place your hands on your head interlacing your finger and get on your knees!" The kid was very confused and scared now but complied. Mason walked over to him and got behind the kid letting the rifle hang by it sling grabbed the kid's hands pulled him back to ensure he had no power to do anything Mason didn't want him to.

Mason wished he had someone else with him to cover him in case the kid did try to make a move. Mason removed the boy's backpack and tossed it by the pistol, he then searched him going through all his pockets and belt line. He found two spare magazines for the pistol, a hunting knife, pens, a wallet, keys, a hand drawn map, and a pack of cigarettes. Everything was tossed near the backpack expect for the cigarettes which Mason stuffed into his breast pocket. "You're too young to smoke." Mason said as he let go of the kid and moved around to his front rifle still trained on him. "On your feet keeping your hands on your head." The kid got to his feet hands still on his head. "Turn around." The kid did so now facing the direction he had been running. "Don't turn around and start walking." The kid did so. "Count to 30."

"What?" The kid asked started to turn around so he could see Mason.

"Don't turn around!" Mason shouted. "Keep walking and count to 30!"

"Oh man please don't do this," The kid pleading the thought that he was going to be executed entering his head.

"Start counting!" Mason ordered. "When you reach 30 turn around! Not before!"

"One, two, three. Please don't," The kid pleaded sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

"Count! Keep walking!" Mason shouted.

"Four, five, six, eight, nine, ten," The kid counted as his legs started to shake from fright as he walked. "11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30." The kid stopped walking and closed his eyes waiting for the bullet but it didn't come so he turned around slowly expecting to see the soldier still aiming his rifle at him. But he wasn't, the soldier wasn't even through anymore but he had left his stuff minus the cigarettes he was too young to smoke. The kid was only more confused as he pulled the backpack back on his shoulders and reloaded the pistol. He then re-pocketed the rest of his items before he started on his way thinking maybe it was best that he hadn't teamed up with the soldier.

Mason had reacted as he did for two reasons one for he didn't trust most people before the outbreak and now he trusted them less. The first day on his own before he had met the witch he had come across two other survivors one man and one woman. The man was trying to force himself on to the woman. Mason couldn't believe it, here the world was falling apart and this scum was thinking of only himself. Mason shot him in the back of his head and walked away as the woman started to scream trying to wipe the blood off her face. When she recovered she ran to catch up with him and thanked him. Mason just told her to head her designated evac zone and kept walking. The second was he just didn't care about others anymore. He was never known to have many feeling before he enlisted in the Army and what little ones he did have were crushed by his three sadist drill sergeants.

Then those crushed feelings were weakened even more by his deployment and then finally completely destroyed during the outbreak. He had seen many a comrade die horrible deaths, and some had been from just doing the 'right' thing Baker being the perfect example. So now he felt nothing and didn't care what happen to himself or others. Sure he would still feel fear but that is one emotion no one can get rid of completely despite what they might say. He had left that kid there for he just didn't care what happened to him. He helped him only because it was just another penance for his long list of sins. He didn't think it was worth it since he had wasted 39 rounds and only gained half a pack of cigarettes and that may have set him back a little in his penance. Mason looked at his watch as he turned down a different street, he wanted to make 12 miles at least before dusk. It was possible as long as he didn't run into too many more infected or the witch that was stalking him.


	3. Battles past

Mason walked letting his rifle hang by its sling as he pulled the pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. He opened the pack and used his teeth to pull one out before stuffing the pack back into his pocket. Mason then pulled out his once shinny Zippo lighter that had his basic training graduation date engraved on it and used it to light the cigarette. He inhaled deeply as he pocketed the lighter again exhaling through his noise a cloud of smoke. He used his tongue to move it to the corner of his mouth and let it sit there letting the natural act of breathing smoke the cigarette. Mason reached a four way intersection and turned right moving on to Main street and stopped. Main street was a standard four lane street with a sidewalk on either side restaurants and stores lining either side. Not far from him was a line of Humvees turned so their sides were facing the street creating an effective barricade, or so they had thought. Before the breach of the line they had moved into the city to evac civilians and hoped to nip the infection in the bud. They had set up a line near a reported hot zone thinking they could keep them from spreading, how wrong they were. He moved up to the line slowly and climbed onto the roof of the Humvee furthest to the right.

He looked out onto Main street and could see all the craters in the pavement caused by falling mortar rounds. The bodies of the infected that had been killed were missing leaving Mason thinking that the bastards might eat their own dead. Some of the blood and gore had been washed away by the rain or been licked up by animals. Still there were large patches of rust colored dried blood on the street and sidewalks. Mason then looked around the Humvees and the plastic road dividers they had placed in front of the vehicles. He saw the thousands of spent shell cases littering the ground although they had faded from a dull gold to a flat brown. He looked at the Humvees' turret and the mounted M2 50 caliber heavy machinegun mounted on it, all the Humvees armed in the same fashion. He moved over and dropped through the gunner's hatch his feet hitting the vehicle's floor, his lower body inside of the Humvee.

Mason looked the heavy machinegun over. The ammo box to the left of the gun still held half a belt of ammunition. They too had faded to a ugly brown color having been exposed, unprotected to the elements. He looked and tried to pull the charging handle back but only got it to move halfway back before it got stuck. Mason opened the hatch of the weapon to inspect the feed tray and bolt. The bolt sat halfway back, or forward depending on how one thought about it, and was stuck in that position. He saw why: an ejecting round had failed to eject all the way and had been caught as the bolt tried to slide forward to chamber a new round. Both the new and the used rounds were trying to fit into a barrel that was only big enough for one and had jammed the bolt. Mason spat his burnt up cigarette onto the roof of the Humvee as he picked up a spent round and used it to force the two competing rounds out of the way.

He lit a second cigarette and moved it to the corner of his mouth just before he slammed the hatch closed and yanked back on the charging handle letting it snap forward. When it did it made a loud and satisfying clack-CLACK as it racked and chambered a round he wouldn't trust to fire without exploding in his face. When he heard that sound and saw the carnage of the battle past other memories and things flooded him. The thundering of the 50 cals, the crack of rifle shots. The screech of the infected and screams of fleeing civilians. The whistling of incoming mortar rounds followed by the loud bang and rumbling ground. The smell of sulfur from burnt gunpowder stinging his nostrils. The shouts of comrades as they reloaded and resumed firing or called out for ammo. As he started to lose himself in the memory he tried to remember who had been firing the 50 cal he was now behind. Mason reached up and grabbed onto the weapon's handles loosely when he remembered that it was...

"Brewster! Brewster!" Mason shouted up at the young private as he went full auto firing on the advancing hoard. "You're going to melt the fucking barrel man!" Mason shouted up from the ground once he had noticed the gun's barrel had a dull orange tint to it. Mason cursed under his breath as he knew he couldn't hear him. Not with all the fire and incoming rounds that shook the ground each time they landed. When they exploded they would kill a large group of infected, wounding and scattering dozens more but they were relentless and showed no fear. Then to only complicate matters civilians were mixed in running for their lives trying to reach the soldiers and the 'safety' on the other side. So they had to watch their fire somewhat but it was hard to pick them apart from the infected at a distance and it was foolish to think a mortar round hadn't killed one or two at least. They were are all chalked up to acceptable losses for the greater good which was stopping the infection.

Mason fired twice more to drop an infected that had made it through the curtain of falling mortar rounds and hail of machinegun rounds. He then safeted his rifle before he pulled himself away from the plastic divider. He ran behind the Humvee Brewster was firing from and climbed up the back hatch and up to the roof. He knelt to the left of Brewster as he still went hero with the mounted weapon.

"Take it easy man you're going to melt the barrel!" Mason shouted inches from Brewster's ear as a mortar round whistled in and struck its target.

"What!?" Brewster shouted as he still fired into the hoard the barrel glowing a brighter orange.

"I said!" Mason started when Brewster's belt ran dry and the weapon stopped firing bringing down the volume a little in their area. "You're going to melt the fucking barrel!" To prove his point Mason took the cigarette he kept in his helmet's band and touched it to the side of the large barrel. When he pulled it away the end glowed red, he had lit his cigarette using the heat of the barrel, he stuck the lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "I'll get the second barrel and we'll swap it out!" Mason still shouted as the sounds of the battle were still deafening. Mason slid down the slightly slopped back and opened the back hatch. Brewster meanwhile had pulled his rifle up through the gunner's hatch and fired that into the hoard to still contribute something to the fight.

Mason grabbed the rather heavy and long barrel for the machinegun along with two boxes of ammo from the back. He shut the hatch and climbed up the sloped back carrying the barrel and ammo. He placed the ammo next to Brewster and moved to front of the weapon bringing the second barrel with him. Brewster opened the weapon's hatch and pulled the bolt back halfway to allow Mason to unscrew the overheated barrel. Mason looked at the still glowing barrel and then to his hands that were only covered by the kind of thick kvelar lined combat gloves. He should be wearing the large heat resistant mitts to remove the barrel, but the screech of an infected and the thunder of a landing mortar round told him he didn't have the time. Mason gripped the barrel and turned it quickly unscrewing it as fast as he could, already feeling the heat even through the gloves. The heat was starting to become unbearable as he continued to unscrew the barrel and he wanted to stop but it was almost out. Just as the heat started to seriously hurt his hands the barrel was freed from the weapon. With a grunt he tossed it to the side and started to wave his hands around attempting to cool them.

Mason's hands still felt warm and it was painful to touch anything. He didn't have time for pain however as he pushed it to the back of his mind as he grabbed the cool second barrel. He placed it inside the weapon and started to screw it in quickly until it ratcheted and he was unable to turn it anymore. Mason then unscrewed it three clicks and moved to get beside Brewster as he let the bolt slide forward again. Now normally Mason would recheck the head space and timing after swapping out the barrel but there just wasn't time. He opened one of the ammo cans, pulled the belt out and placed it on the feed tray. He then locked the feeding leveler on the first round just before he slammed the hatch closed again.

"Rack it!" Mason shouted as he re-shouldered his rifle to fire into the hoard. Brewster dropped his rifle back through the hatch before he pulled the bolt back and let it snap forward making a loud clack-CLACK. "Seven to ten seconds burst!" Mason shouted as he fired into the advancing hoard. Brewster jammed his thumbs down on the butterfly trigger of the 50 cal the gun giving a throaty roar. Brewster fired into the advancing hoard the large rounds blowing chunks out of them and passing through at least two or three infected at once. As Mason stopped firing to reload he noticed that the mortar rounds were starting to fall less frequently. As a direct result the hoard had slightly gained ground but the 50s were picking up the slack. He finished reloading and fired again not really aiming just firing into the tightly packed hoard. Mason looked over at Brewster as he fired in bursts now and saw his belt was almost dry. He grabbed the belt from the second box and linked it in with the remaining one.

Mason placed his rifle on safe and slid down the back of the Humvee again. He couldn't help but notice that the falling mortar rounds were becoming even less frequently. Mason opened the back hatch and went to grab two more ammo boxes when he heard the radio squawking. He knew someone was speaking but Mason couldn't hear what they were saying due to the roaring 50 cals and less frequent exploding mortar rounds. He crawled to the front and snatched up the handset, pressed it to his ear and used his other hand to cover his unused ear from the sounds of battle. Mason had joined in the middle of the conversation and he could just barely hear it but never the less he did.

"-re almost black on the 88 mike, mike! Can you hold? Over!" Voice one.

"Be advised we still have civilians mixed in with the Zulus over!" Voice two.

"Understood! Your fire support will be gone in less than two mikes can you hold?! I need a no bullshit assessment captain over!" Voice one obviously Dagger Command the ones in charge of the forces for the city. There was a longer pause and Mason was about to drop the handset to head back to the line when the other voice spoke.

"That is a negative!" Voice two said clearly Captain Smith company commander of the 13th Infantry Company. "We will not be able to hold without 88 mike, mike fire! Possible to get CAS?! Fixed wing or rotor!? Over!"

"Negative fixed wings not equipped for close air support!" Dagger Command explained. "Rotors still assisting with evac! You will have no support or reinforcements for 20 mikes can you hold that long!? Over!" Here there was another long pause as Mason felt a bad feeling grow in the pit of his stomach.

"Negative! Negative!" Captain Smith said. "We cannot hold that long without support over!"

"Understood!" Dagger Command said. "You are ordered to break contact immediately and fall back to secondary line! How copy? Over!"

"Read you lima charlie!" Smith said. "It will take a few mikes to get the Humvees turned around over!"

"Negative break contact immediately leave the Humvees!" Dagger command ordered. "Fall back on foot to the secondary vehicles! Take care of sensitive items before you pull out over!"

"Wilco out!" Smith said ending the conversation. Mason dropped the handset crawled back a foot, shouldered his rifle and fired a burst into the radio destroying it. A small cloud of oily smoke rose out of three holes Mason had fired into the radio. It had been decided that they were pulling back and in a hurry abandoning the Humvees and all the equipment. So Mason reacted how he had been trained and briefed destroying any and all sensitive and classified equipment so it wouldn't fall into the hands of the enemy. Although Mason doubted the infected would every figure out how to work a radio to listen in on their chatter and the civilians wouldn't really know what to do with it either. Mason crawled out of the back of the Humvee the ammo boxes forgot and scrambled up to the roof and knelt next to Brewster.

"Break contact!" Mason shouted. "Break contact! We're pulling back!"

"What?!" Brewster shouted as he fired full auto into the hoard again as only a single mortar round fell every 30 seconds now. The hoard had gained a lot of ground due to the lack of falling rounds. "Are you fucking serious?!" Mason was about to repeat himself but he didn't have to.

"Break contact!"

"Fall back!"

"Pull back!"

"Leave the vehicles!"

"PULL BACK ON FOOT!"

"BREAK FUCKING CONTACT!" And similar shouts were heard up and down the line.

"Alright let me finish my belt!" Brewster shouted. The 50 choose that moment to fail to eject the round and jam locking the bolt halfway back(or forward depending on how one looked at it). Brewster tried to yank back on the charging handle to free it but it wouldn't budge.

"Forget it!" Mason shouted as he pulled a frag grenade from his web gear. "Fall back!" Brewster pulled himself up and out of the gunner's hatch, grabbing his rifle, jumped down to the pavement and ran full tilt from the line. As he ran Mason pulled the pin on the grenade and moved his arm back his thumb holding the spoon down to prevent the grenade from arming. "FRAG OUT!" Mason screamed at the top of his lungs as he threw the grenade the T leaving his mouth as the grenade left his hand. It was still flying through the air when Mason turned around and dropped down from the Humvee's roof. His feet hit the ground just as the grenade landed in the street as the infected ran around and over it. Mason had taken five steps before it went off flipping five infected into the air their legs and arms gone and scattering 10 more with lesser injurious.

Mason was running full tilt with the rest of his fleeing company as a fireball exploded behind them. A soldier had taken the destruction of sensitive equipment seriously and tossed a frag grenade in the back of a Humvee, when it went off the diesel fuel went to. The front of the infected hoard had just reached the loops of razor wire that they had laid in front of the line to slow them down. It was working too as the infected thrashed around trying to free themselves and make it past the barrier shredding their bodies as they only tangled themselves more. They had just reached the wire when Mason passed a side street when he heard a scream. He stopped and turned to face the sound and saw a woman running from something that was running faster than any Zulu he had seem moving along a roof top. It wore a hooded sweat shirt, dropped to all four and leap at the woman screeching at it did so.

Mason reacted quickly, time seeming to slow down as his adrenaline kicked in. He drew a bead on the leaping thing and tracked it firing a burst just a little in front of it. The thing screeched in pain as the rounds hit it landing on the ground hard rolling over twice. It was still alive and tried to get to his feet when Mason fired again moving towards it. Mason ducked walked down the street firing into the thing till it finally lay still Mason stopping just in front of the woman who had fallen to her knees after seeing the creature jump at her. He stuck out his left gloved hand.

"Come on!" Mason shouted at her. She looked up sharply, tears of fright in her eyes, at the man that stood over her. He had broad shoulders and muscular looking body that was made bulky by the equipment he wore. He had a grizzled and scared face that was both young and old at the same time and a cigarette sat forgotten in the corner of his mouth. However she could see that he had genuinely kind and caring eyes as he held out his hand. She reached out to grab it a little unsure when his eyes became as narrow as a snake's and hard as stone. She recoiled in fear pulling her hand back as he shouldered his rifle and fired over her head deafening her somewhat. She looked behind her and saw he had just killed two more infected that would have gone after her.

The next thing she knew that man had grabbed her roughly by the arm and hauled her to her feet. She saw that his eyes had taken on the kind tone again just before they narrowed once again. She suddenly found herself being pulled onto Main street and into a group of other fleeing soldiers. The soldier that held onto her arm half pulled her half dragged her weaving around fellow soldiers as she tried to keep from falling. She looked behind them and saw the infected had made it past the razor wire and were climbing over the Humvees. The ones that had the pour judgment to climb the burning Humvee ran around aimlessly on fire before they fell to the ground as they continued to burn. She turned back around to see that there was a waiting line of large military trucks behind a line of more plastic barriers. She then saw that the soldier that was pulling her had slowed and then stopped and tired to stop herself to little effect.

Mason felt the woman slam into his back, but she did little more than rock him on his feet and he paid her no mind. Mason looked around for Captain Smith and found him by the back of a duce 'n' a half truck helping soldiers into the back. He ran towards him pulling the woman's arm jerking her forward and leading her to a truck. Mason stopped behind a line of soldiers as they waited to board the truck and he was force to wait himself getting anxious as the infected neared. What felt like ages later it was his turn and he shoved the woman in front of him and was about to help her climb into the high truck bed when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and turn him around.

"What the fuck are you doing soldier?" Captain Smith demanded.

"Sir evacing a civilian," Mason said a little taken back.

"We are not authorized to take back any civilians," Smith explained. "She stays here and will have to make her own way to an evac center."

"But sir-" Mason began.

"Goddamn it!" Smith shouted angrily. "We do not have time to argue! That is a fucking order she stays here!" Smith then ran off to help with the rest of the retreat. Mason looked at the woman who's cheeks were still wet with tears and then to the advancing hoard. Mason pulled her over to store and kicked the door in shoving her inside. Mason pulled a canteen from his belt and a MRE from a pouch. He handed them to her and thought about giving her his side arm but that was a big no-no for he would have to explain to a jury of his peers how he lost his pistol.

"Stay here till the infected pass," Mason ordered. "When they do make your way to Hill Creek High School it's the closest evac center. I'm sorry." With that Mason ran out of the store and jumped into the back of a duce and took the last seat. As Mason sat down the truck lurched forward rapidly gaining speed as they fled from the infected. The woman moved to the back of the story and locked herself in a small bathroom. She started to cry as she scratched the back of her right shoulder, through her shirt, where a month ago she had gotten a small tattoo of a lizard. Mason looked out the back of the truck as the infected and the store he had left that defenseless woman grew smaller as they got father away. He looked at the ground feeling a hopelessness and angry rise up in him as he spat his...

Cigarette had sat forgotten in the corner of his mouth as he lost himself in the memory of the battle past. It had been burnt down clear to the filter and he spat it onto the roof of the Humvee as he pulled himself up from the turret and the rusted rounds. Mason looked at his watch and cursed inside of his head an hour and a half had passed with him just standing behind the turret lost in the memory. If I ever make it out of this alive and the world is still there I am going to have to see a shrink, Mason thought as he started to jog down the street to make up for lost time. He was unaware that he was being watched by a pair of glowing eyes that he didn't know but they knew him and they had some unfinished business with him. She stared at him from the darken store as he walked past it the same store he had left her in weeks ago. Once he had moved past and hadn't seen her she dashed out the back and moved in a back alleyway to keep pace with him.


	4. Familiar faces

Mason moved quickly down a street as the sun was starting to go down turning the sky a deep yellow. What most saw as beautiful he saw as deadly since the infected were always more active at night. Then where they didn't seem to be hindered by the dark he was and his NVG's batteries had died long ago. He turned down a single lane street and saw the group of infected standing in the middle of it. Mason's mind immediately and automatically switch into combat mood as he snapped up his rifle. He fired his first burst hitting an infected in the back killing him, he fell to the ground blood blossoming from his back. An infected had turned to face Mason having heard the sound of his rifle's report and seeing the fellow infected fall. He was about to let out a screech before he charged Mason but he had fired again. Mason's second burst took the would be screaming in the neck and face silencing him.

It didn't matter as the rest of infected had turned to face Mason by then and let out their own shrikes before they charged him. Mason dug his heels in and fired with deadly accuracy each burst hitting an infected but they were closing the gap fast. One more burst spat from the end of his rifle taking one of the last three infected that were charging him in the chest. The infected a woman wearing a once white bathrobe fell face first to the ground and skidded to a rough stop. Mason's bolt locked back on a an empty magazine and the last two infected were too close for him to try and reload. Mason let go of his rifle letting it hang by its sling his right hand dropping to his right thigh. His fingers closed around the grip of his pistol and yanked it free of its holster. Mason snapped it up and fired just twice both rounds taking each infected between the eyes, their heads snapping back just before they flopped onto their backs hitting the ground hard.

The last two threats taken care of Mason safetied the pistol and slid it back into its holster in one smooth motion. He was happy that his drill sergeants not only drilled them endlessly on reloading but switching from their primary weapons to their secondary. He then reloaded his rifle placing the empty magazine and placing it in a pouch on his belt, he world refill from a box of loose rounds he had taken from a Humvee before he had left the line. He started walking again careful to step over the bodies of the dead infected. Mason looked at his watch and then the sky and knew he maybe only had 30 minutes of good daylight left. He cursed inside of his head he was going to be a few miles short of his goal due to that fucking episode he had when he revisited the line. He started to jog again this time looking for a place to pass the night unaware that a pair of red eyes were watching his every move.

Mason hadn't gotten far when he saw a large lone house up on a hill. He immediately liked it since it was on the high ground and was three stories meaning he would have a commanding field of fire in all directions. Most importantly there seemed to be no infected nearby and he hoped the house would be empty as well. Mason jogged up the hill then once he found a paved path he took that up to the front door. The front door was a pair of large thick oak doors with no windows in them, perfect. He tired both knobs and found them locked and he was about to kick in the door when he stopped to think. A house this big and this nice has got to have an alarm, Mason thought, and the last thing I need is for sirens to wale and draw in every infected for miles around. He looked up to the second story windows and he got an idea. Mason walked over to the attached garage and it's much shorter roof.

Mason slung his rifle across his back just before he jumped up grabbing the edge of the roof. With a grunt he slowly pulled himself up to so he could rest his chest on the roof. He swung his left leg up getting a knee onto the rough and rubbery shingles of the roof. Mason grunted as he hauled the rest of his body up to the roof. He got to his feet panting heavily his mind going back to basic training when he was forced to climbs wall at roughly the same height. He remember he wasn't breathing heavily then but he also didn't have a 50lb rucksack and full web gear on then. Mason walked across the roof and steeped up and onto the section of roof the second story windows looked out on. He crouched in front of one of the windows and inspected it finding no wires or sensors that would have set an alarm off. Normally most don't want to pay to arm second story windows when they think no one can reach them.

Pleased Mason tried to lift the window but it was locked, leaving him two options try to jimmy it or smash it in. He unslung his rifle and looked over his shoulder just before he used his rifle's stock to smash out a pane of glass. He used a hand that was protected by a kevlar lined glove the same ones that still had burn marks on the palms, to clear away the bits of glass. After that he reached his arm through, unlocked the window and pushed it up. Mason's boots landed on the carpet of a bedroom who's bed was still made up. He cleared the room quickly finding no cloths in the closet but hangers leading him to think that the house was(hopefully) empty the ones living there running off to the nearest evac center.

It took him awhile but Mason eventually swept and cleared the entire house thoroughly and carefully finding it completely empty. He ended up in front of the front doors and the alarm key pad that sat a little to the right of the doors. He inspected the panel and found the system to be indeed armed. Mason pulled the switch blade knife that he had taken from a man that had tried to shoot him(Mason had been a better shot) during his tour in the desert from his belt. He pushed the button on the side of the wooden handle the six inch blade springing fourth. He used the blade to removed the alarm's cover exposing a few wires and a circuit card. Mason found and isolated the two wires he needed and used the knife to cut them. There was a few sparks and the smell of melted plastic but the alarm panel went dark the alarm deactivated.

Before he had found his calling in the Army Mason had worked as an electrician's apprentice his summer in-between junior and senior year of high school. He had been hired by an alarm company and found out he had a talent for the work. The licensed electrician had liked Mason, thought he was a good kid and showed him some things he probably shouldn't have. Like how to cut the power to the entire system deactivating it. It wasn't perfect as the company that monitored the system would see that it had gone off line. They would try to call the house to see if there was a power outage or a problem with the system. If they couldn't get a hold of anyone they would dispatch a cop to see if everything was on the up and up. So it wasn't perfect but Mason doubted there would be anyone at the monitoring station now.

He pushed the blade back into the knife's handle before he clipped it back to his belt. Mason dropped his rucksack from his shoulders it landed on the wooden floor with a dull thud. Now that he deactivates the alarm he had to implement his own especially with that Witch stalking him. He knelt in front of the door pulling a grenade for his web gear and roll of black electrical tape. He taped the grenade to one of the doors, tied a thin piece of wire through the pin and then taped the end of the wire to the other door. So not matter which door an intruder opened they would pull the pin from the grenade and blow themselves up. Mason booby trapped the rest of the doors in the same way. Feeling somewhat safe now he looked for something to eat and so he pulled the refrigerator door open the chilled air hitting his face.

"No way," Mason muttered as he looked at the contents of the fridge. Sitting on the top shelf were six shinny cans of beer arranged neatly and carefully. He snatched on up, popped the top and took a long drink drinking a little over half the can in one go. He searched through the cabinets and found some canned food. Taking the food and more beer Mason walked over to the living room and sat down heavily in a overstuffed arm chair. He field stripped his rifle, took the cleaning kit from a cargo pocket on his leg and started to remove the carbon that had become caked on from firing it that day as day turned to night. Mason lost track of time only stopping with his rifle to get up and grab another can of beer. By the time he put his rifle back together and topped off his magazines he had drank all six cans and stood up a little shakily.

"Guess my tolerance isn't what it used to be," Mason muttered as he slung his rifle and picked up his rucksack. Mason wasn't drunk but he differently had a really good buzz going. He made his way up the stairs to a bedroom on the third floor, turning off the lights as he went. Mason closed the door of the bedroom and grunted when he found there wasn't a lock on the door. He shrugged though for he had the house wired so he felt safe as he set his rucksack down. He unstrapped his helmet and placed on the dresser that was next to the door. Mason unrolled his sleeping mat, took off his web gear dropping in a untidy pile next to the mat, removed his BDU jacket and boots. He laid down on his back on the mat wearing only his brown t-shirt and BDU pants. He placed his rifle on his left side not very far away, his web gear that held his pistol right next to it. Mason set his watch's alarm just before he closed his eyes and fell asleep soundly the alcohol making sure of that.

Outside of the house the pair of red eyes narrowed once they saw the lights on the inside had been shut off. The Witch that Mason called Liz moved out from her hiding spot and slowly approached the house. She stood and stared at it for several minutes her arms crossed across her chest hugging herself as she gave him a little more time. Once she felt like she had waited long enough she walked over to the garage, she had watched him and saw how he had gotten in. She jumped up, grabbed the edge of the roof and pulled herself up with a lot less effort and with more grace then Mason had. She walked over to the window that he had broken and lifted it open, he had completely forgotten about the window.

She dropped to the floor silently and walked out to the hallway making a beeline for the stairs her arms still hugging her chest. She had watched him for a long time and knew his habits so she knew he preferred to sleep on the upper most levels of structures. She reached the third floor and found all the doors open but one and she made her way over to it silently. She stopped in front of it and stared at it unsure if she was really going to go through with it. She reached down and gripped the door knob fighting with her claws a little. She slowly turned the handle part of her hoping it would be locked so she could just turn around and leave.

Instead it turned easily and she slowly eased the door open and walked in to the room. The room was pitch black but she could see everything as plain as day, and she saw him. She stood over him arms held to her chest tightly watching him sleep. Why was she fascinated with this man? Why didn't she want to kill him? In fact it was quite the opposite she wanted to be close to him, want to hold him and wanted him to hold her but why? Then she remember something from who she once was: this man had shown her kindness when others had not when she needed it the most. This man had tried to help her risking his life to do so. This man had also saved her from the crushing despair that pledge most of her kind.

Her kind was different from the rest of the infected and other mutations. Her kind had some memories of who they once were and their life before infection. It was that along with the realization that they have become something that wasn't human and would never be human again that drove most of her kind to tears. It also gave them a real short temper and the rage the infection gave others was still there but buried under layers of depression. When her kind first turns there is a slight adjustment period while they are coming to terms with everything. They wonder around aimlessly and then once they have their realization they pick their spot and that's when the sobs start. She was in that period when she ran into him(or when he ran into her) seeing him and the positive memory he brought made her feel not as depressed. After he had left she felt the sorrow take over again and almost bring her down so she went after him. Being near him filled her with good feelings.

She watched him as he slept: he was on his back, his left arm resting on his chest, the other stretched out to his side. She knew what she wanted then but she had to take a few precautions first. After she had finished with her precautions and he hadn't stirred she sat down next to him. After he still didn't wake she eased herself back laying on her back next to him her shoulders to top of his right out stretched arm. When he still didn't stir she slowly turned so she was laying on her side her back facing him. She still wasn't satisfied so she gently and slowly eased herself back till her back was touching his right side his right arm still under her. He stirred then and she felt panic rise up inside of her and she was about to get up and flee so she wouldn't have to kill him. Instead he remained asleep but turned so he was on his side as well and snuggled up closer to her his chest pressed into her back. His left arm wrapped around her resting on her bare stomach and pulled her even closer. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and the pleasant heat the rest of his body gave off. She felt a feeling she hadn't felt in a long while: joy as she grabbed his hand that was on her stomach with her own careful not to jab him with her claws and drifted off to sleep herself.

Mason was having a pleasant dream that he was back in his apartment sleeping in his own bed his girlfriend pressed tightly against him. He could even smell her pleasant scent and this caused a smile to form on his sleeping face. The sunlight from the rising sun outside shone through the window landed on his face and this caused him to stir. When he did he subconsciously pressed himself tighter to his girlfriend feeling her soft hair brush his face. It was this that turned the smile to a frown as he started to wake a little more. He slowly opened his eyes the beer from last night making him slow and groggy. Mason saw white hair in front of him and a very pale neck as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. Mason was confused until his eyes landed on a small lizard tattoo that was on a bare shoulder. His heart stopped for a few beats but once it started again it beat so fast he thought it was going to burst.

The Witch that had been stalking him was laying next to him, no she was laying with him his right arm was under her for fucks sake. His left arm was around and he knew he must had done that in his sleep and he tried to pull it back but it met resistance. Mason slowly raised his head up as not to touch her but so he could look over her. He saw that his other hand was being gripped by one of hers put not to tightly. Mason used a little more force and pulled his hand and arm free as she stirred. His heart stopped again as he remained completely motionless. She pulled her now free hand closer to her chest and wiggled a little bit but remained asleep. After that his heart did something he would have thought impossible, it beat even faster to the point where he feared she would hear it.

What am I going to do, what am I going to do man? Mason thought. His right arm was still under her and he didn't think he could pull it out without waking her and her killing him. He then remember his rifle but he quickly dismissed it since he knew he could aim and fire it one handed with the target this close. Not to mention he had seen her kind take rounds to the head and keep going. That's when he remembered his bayonet that was still attached to the rifle and thought he could use that to slit her throat. It was a long shot but it was better than waiting for her to wake up so she could kill him them. He reached behind him feeling for his rifle but when he couldn't find it after several seconds of groping he turned his head to look behind him. When he did his eyes grew wide in fear for his rifle and web gear were gone.

He looked around wildly for it and finely found it. It was leaning against the dresser the stock on the ground barrel in the air. Hanging from the barrel was his web gear that someone had placed neatly on top of it. His pistol, grenades, and switch blade were attach to the web gear leaving him without any weapons. Mason looked down at her sleeping form and his eyes grew wide in realization that she was the one that placed them over there. Having no choice now he used his free hand to gently roll her forward relieving some presser from his trapped arm. Holding her like that he slowly, ever so slowly pull his arm out from under her. Mason gritted his teeth as he pulled his arm finally popping free after the longest minute of his life. He gently rolled her back to her side just before he carful got to his feet.

He flex his arm a few times since it had fallen asleep and was tingling as he stared at her. A million thoughts raced through his head then: How'd she get in? Why was she laying next to me? Why didn't she just kill me? Why didn't my alarm go off? He then looked at his watch and saw that it was an hour in a half after his alarm was suppose to go off. His eyes grew wide once again when he knew that she had turned it off. This scared him more than her taking his weapons and moving them, because this meant she didn't want him to wake up before she did. Mason knew that it was so she could wake up before he did and slit his throat while he spelt.

He snatch up his rifle and aimed it loosely at her weighing his options. He still didn't know if he could take her down before she ripped out his eyes but this last encounter with her had been too damn close. But there was a much quieter voice in his head that was telling him he didn't want to kill her but he didn't know why. As he looked at her thinking about the best course of action Mason thought he saw a familiarity in her face. He narrow his eyes and looked harder as her face brought back memories of fleeing from the line of Humvees and he didn't know why.

Then he had it, he had seen this woman before, before she had been infected and turned into the sleeping creature he was staring at. Mason was surprised he remembered her at all since she had changed a lot. Her once dark hair had become a ghostly white, her lightly tanned skin becoming an extremely pale, ghost white. Her brilliant green eyes now glowed an eerie and frightening red. Her hands, that seemed so delicate before, were now tipped with long deadly claws. She had been slender before but now she seemed even thinner and slightly taller as well. The only things that seemed unchanged to him was her breasts and butt both ample and perfect. Mason shook his head after that last thought thinking himself sick for noticing that above everything else that was happening. He then understood why she was after him and wanted to kill him. He had left her for dead and she had become infected and it was mostly his fault. He had dragged her to what she thought was safety and then he had taken her to a empty store and left her there.

A low growl snapped Mason out of his train of thought as he recognized the sound. It was the growl of a prowling Jack. He knew that civilians called them Hunters and he actually thought that was a better name but due to the Army he couldn't think of them as anything other than Jack. He heard the growl again this time closer along with creaking floor boards as something moved down the hallway. Mason backed into the corner along the wall the door was set into crouching down and shouldering his rifle. His eyes flicked over to the still sleeping Witch and he was about to get up and leave the room willing to take his chances with the Jack anywhere else when he clawed on all fours through the still open door. Mason froze in his current location barely brave enough to even breath. The Jack approached the still sleeping Witch and stopped just in front of her. His growling seemed to change to a purring as he reached up and used a finger to trace a line from her neck to one of her breasts. She stirred a little but didn't wake and Mason could just picture the sick smile on Jack's face.

The Jack then gently rolled her onto her back still not waking her and his hands went to her lower undergarment. Mason felt bile rise in his throat as he knew what was going to happen. Every voice in his head was screaming to just run and get the hell out of there but that much quieter voice told him he couldn't let him do that to her. The other voices said yes he could and why the fuck did he care what happened to her? Mason didn't know but what he did know was that he was creeping up on the Jack as the bastard moved so he was on top of her, still on all fours. Mason found himself behind the Jack as its hands went to his belt line and before Mason knew it he had thrown his rifle over the Jack's head. Mason pulled back the barrel crushing its windpipe like the infected from yesterday. Mason jerked back harder hauling the Jack to his feet as the Jack grabbed at the rifle's barrel that was strangling him.

Mason started to walk backwards pulling the Jack with him to get them away from her. He had almost made it through the door when the Jack elbowed him hard in the stomach causing him to grunt in pain and double over. Jack then grabbed Mason's rifle and yanked on it ducking forward as he did to rolling Mason over his shoulders. Mason landed hard on his back still gripping his rifle and quickly got to his feet as the Jack took a few steps back a low growl escaping his throat. Mason couldn't believe it, that Jack had just executed the text move to get out of the choke Mason had put him in. Mason eyed the Jack up carefully now. He wore the hooded sweatshirt his kind favored with rings of tape just above the elbows. The hood was pulled up his eyes hidden in shadow only his mouth was visible. He pants were woodland camouflaged BDU pants like Mason's although his had rings of tape above the knees. The pants were tucked into faded black combat boots like Mason's.

The two combatives started to slowly circle each other the Jack on two legs hands at his side. Mason had his rifle aimed square at the Jack but knew he couldn't fire with the Witch still sleeping and Jack seemed to know this. However the Jack just couldn't pounce Mason for he would skewer himself on Mason's bayonet and Mason knew this as well. Jack stopped moving and Mason did as well as they stared each other down. Jack cocked his head to the side seeming puzzled at why Mason was there and why he had engaged him in combat when he could have slipped away. The Jack then turned to look at the sleeping Witch her undergarment pulled down to her ankles(which was driving Mason crazy he wanted nothing more than to pull it back up) and then to Mason and his state of undress(he still just wore his t-shirt and BDU pants). A slow knowing smile spread across Jack's face showing Mason his many jagged teeth. Mason's eyes widen in realization when he knew what the Jack thought.

Mason opened his mouth to explain himself and the situation, thinking it was going to be a useless gesture when the Jack charged him. Not on all fours but with him still standing on two legs rushing towards Mason. Mason lunged with his rifle meaning to stab him with his bayonet but the Jack was expecting that and turned to the side the blade slicing the empty area just next to him. Mason wasn't worried as he followed through with the classic counter for someone that did what the Jack just did. He swung his rifle's butt in a short arc meaning to crack the Jack in the side of the head but the Jack used a classic counter himself and was already ducking when Mason swung. The Jack then got close, right up to Mason, making it very difficult for Mason to hit him with his rifle.

The Jack, who was still turned sideways so his right shoulder was in the middle of Mason's chest, elbowed Mason in the gut just before he back fisted Mason on the nose with the same arm. Mason stumbled back winded and vision cloudily from the hard and quick blows. The Jack then tuned so he was facing Mason bringing his right arm up and under Mason's left lifting his left arm painfully high into the air. The Jack then stuck his right leg in-between Masons' and hooked it behind Mason's left. Jack then pulled with his leg and pushed with his arm driving Mason to the ground onto his back. The Jack pinned him with a knee and punched him across the face as his rifle fell to the ground and skidded out of reach. Mason couldn't believe it the Jack had just performed a takedown straight out of the Army's handbook on hand to hand combat. However once the Jack had him on the ground it seemed his technique switch to brute savagery.

He raised a sharp claw high into the air and brought it down meaning to slash Mason's face but he managed to bring up his right arm in time. Mason grunted in pain as the Jack's claws cut deep into his bare forearm. Mason had been trained in hand to hand combat as well and brought his legs up and wrapped them around Jack's waist. He fully extended his legs holding Jack just out of reach as he slashed out with his claws not being able to reach Mason. As the Jack thrashed around wildly Mason reached up to grab his right arm with both of his hands receiving a few more scratches on his right forearm. Mason didn't care as pulled the arm straight and used his legs to push the Jack over to the side forcing him on to his back. As Mason still held the Jack's arm he moved so his butt was touching the Jack's right side one legs across the Jack's waist the other across his throat to keep him from moving.

Mason then pulled Jack's arm through his legs thumb facing up, elbow resting on his hips. Mason then leaned back and bucked his hips up sharply at the same time. There was a load snapped followed by a screech of pain from the Jack as his arm broke at the elbow. Mason let go of him and got to his feet as the Jack got onto all fours cradling his broken arm low growls that soundly like sobs flowing from his mouth. Mason came up behind him placing his right hand on Jack's left side of his forehead his left on the right side of his jaw. Mason then pulled his hands in opposite directions quickly and as hard as he could. There was a sickening crack as the Jack's spin snapped in two. Mason let go of him letting his lifeless body slump to the ground. With the threat taken care of Mason turned his attention to himself and the blood that was flowing freely from his right forearm.

He rushed over to his web gear and ripped the medical pouch open. He pulled the bandage roll from the med kit along with a packet of white powder. Mason ripped the packet open with his teeth and poured the powder over the cuts on his arm as they continued to bleed. It stung like hell as the powder help coagulate the wounds. He then wrapped them tightly with the bandage roll starting at his wrist and stopping just blow the elbow. He sat down heavily leaning his back against the dress cradling his wounded arm. He sat there for several minutes breathing heavily, eyes closed, heart thumping in his chest. When he opened his eyes he saw that some blood had soaked through the bandage but not enough to cause him to think it was still bleeding.

Mason shakily got to his feet and got dressed: placing his boots on his feet(still tucking his pants into them) pulled on his BDU jacket the sleeves hiding the bandage, pulled on his web gear, strapped on his helmet and picked up his rifle. He was about to leave after he had pulled on his rucksack when his eyes landed on the Jack's face for his hood had fallen down. Mason was sure he had seen this man's face before but couldn't quite place it. The man's hair was cut into a high and tight cut and Mason could just make out part of a small sliver chain around his neck under his shirt. Mason knelt down having a good idea what it was and pulled on it pulling a pair of dog tags from under its shirt. Mason gave them a good yank breaking the chain and pulling them free from Jack's neck.

Mason brought then up to his face so he could read them: _Brewster, Hunter A. 674-029-4536. Blood type AB pos. _A hollow smile came to Mason's lips when he saw that Brewster's first name was Hunter. Mason pocketed the dog tags as a sad thought came into his head. It wasn't that he felt regret for killing a former comrade it was: that bastard owned me 40 bucks. It had been on the night after they had outran the hoard on Main street and two days before the second larger hoard had charged the secondary line. The two had been in the same poker game and Mason had given the buy in money to Brewster. Mason then used his booted foot to roll Brewster onto his stomach and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He took two 20s from the wallet and added them to his own before he dropped the wallet onto the back of Brewster's hoodie.

That was something that Mason didn't get, Brewster was obviously still wearing his uniform(or half of it) but had taken the time after he had gotten infected to pull on a hoodie and tape himself. He then understood it was the same reason that the Army wore matching cloths: it was a uniform. Brewster hadn't changed because he wanted to but because he felt like he had to. If this was true then why did the Witches seem to wear only their undergarments once they become infected? That when he remembered Liz and jerked around to check on her. Despite everything that had happen she had remained asleep her lower undergarment still at her ankles. Mason felt himself redden as he adverted his eyes voices screaming at him to just leave but that quiet one told him he just couldn't leave her like that.

So he walked over and knelt down next to her and gently pulled her underwear back up to cover her. Pleased with himself he looked back up and saw her red eyes staring at him. This caused him to jump back and scramble backwards. She started to get to her feet and that was when he turned and bolted. Mason ran as fast as he could with his gear and rucksack bursting out the front door forgetting all about the grenade he had taped to the door. He had heard the pin being pulled from it and ran even faster diving to the ground just as it went off. He looked behind him and saw the large hole where the doors had been moments before and got to his feet and continued to run.

Still in the third floor bedroom Liz watched him flee feeling the house shake from the explosion. She turned to look at the dead body of the Hunter and hissed in disgust. It had been incredibly hard for her to pretend to be asleep while the scum touched her for she didn't want to frighten the human. Then the human had come to her aid again and it had been even harder not to rush to his aid when he was in peril. The human had proven himself though and had even covered her causing her to think that maybe she didn't frighten him anymore. She was wrong and he had fled like the other times and she knew she was going to have to try something different. She turned and left the room kicking the body of the lifeless Hunter as she did do.


	5. Trap

Mason stopped running leaning against a tree doubled over placing a hand on his knee as he panted. His sides hurt and his breathing was ragged as he wheezed it had been a long time since he ran in full kit for that long. When he finally had his breathing somewhat under control he straightened back up and looked around. He had fled into a wooded area near the house and could see no manmade objects in sight. Mason took a knee pulling his weathered map from his right cargo pocket still breathing hard. He unfolded it before taking his compass out, opening it and placing it on the map.

"Where the fuck am I?" Mason muttered as he looked the map over. It was a tactical map meaning it showed the landscape and terrain in great detail, but unless it was a main highway it didn't show much in the way of roads and structures. The map even went so far as to display the different elevations of a hill all the way up to its crest. However he would be damned if he could find anything he could easily recognize. After some looking he managed to find a hill that looked like the one the house had been on. He moved along the likely route he had run and compared the terrain on the map to what was around him. Mason tapped a point on the map after some thought feeling like he had a rough idea where he was. He then looked ahead and saw a large flat area that a highway ran very close to, making Mason think there was at least a few houses there. The scale on the map said it was roughly five miles north-west.

He got to his feet folding up his map and placing it back in his pocket but leaving his compass out. He used it to find north-west, picked a point in that direction(a tree with a broken branch) and started walking towards it. Five miles wasn't very far in the grand scheme but the sky was gray and dark and he knew a storm was coming and he could bet it was going to be a bad one. Plus he was feeling a little dizzy he must have lost more blood then he had originally thought. Mason walked rifle at the low ready sticks and leaves crunching under his boots. As he walked he made a mistake, his drill sergeants had told him countless times that while on patrol he needs to be alert at all times. Mason let his mind wonder thinking about Liz, the fight with the Jack and waking up next to her.

That's why he didn't recognize the threat till it was too late. Mason was thinking about how she had looked at him after he had covered her and that her eyes didn't seem to glow quite as red. He heard the sharp snap of a stick breaking and knew it hadn't been him. He stopped and turned to face the direction where the sound had come from. Mason was about to raise his rifle up when a figure stood up having been laying in the leaves. He was roughly 40 yards away, dressed in civilian hunting camouflage and aiming a shotgun square at Mason. Mason turned so he was square with the unknown armed man and started to slowly walk backwards to get more distance between them.

"Hold it right there mister!" The Man ordered shifting his weight between his legs.

"What do you want friend?" Mason asked his voice calm right hand tight around his rifle's pistol grip.

"I ain't your friend," The Man said. "And I want everything thing you've got starting with that nice gun you've got there."

"Sir it is my duty to inform you that assaulting a US soldier is a federal crime," Mason said his voice still calm. "Punishable by up to 25 years incarceration or death." The shotgun wielding man laughed out loud.

"Well soldier boy it's my duty to inform you that the word has gone to shit," The Man mocked. "And the only rules is made by the person with the bigger gun." He then pumped his shotgun to get his point across, but in doing so he wasted a perfectly good round Mason watched as it was ejected from the chamber as another was racked.

"That is a nice weapon you have there," Mason said still calmly, but slowly(so it wouldn't make a noise) switched his rifle from safe to semi. "12 gage shotgun?"

"Yep," The Man said proudly. "It'll put a fist sized hole through your front and twice that size through your back."

"Remington 870?" Mason asked still calm and smoothly. The man seemed a little taken back by Mason's questions.

"Uh I think so," The Man said a little unsure. "It ain't mine I just found it."

"You fire it yet?" Mason asked taking a slight step back that the man didn't catch.

"If you really want to know soldier boy," The Man sneered. "Not yet but any idiot can shoot a shotgun."

"Indeed," Mason muttered under his breath and then loud enough to be heard. "Interesting fact about the 870 is that it is usually, well more than usually, made with a modified choke. That makes the max effective range of it roughly 30 yards. But it also depends on the type of ammo one has loaded. By the green color of the shell you just ejected I see you have waterfowl shot loaded. Those are very small pellets that spread out quickly so the effective range of those is a little over 20 yards with your current choke."

"Huh," The Man said looking his shotgun over the end of the barrel starting to waver a little bit.

"You were also right about this being a good weapon," Mason said lifting his rifle up slightly. "The M16A2 assault rifle with semi automatic and burst fire modes. A maximum effective range of 600 meters and a overall max range of a 1000 meters. Just in case you're wondering we are roughly 50 meters apart and a meter is longer than a yard. Sir do you know what a ready up is?"

"Uhm no," The Man said a little uncertainly entering his voice as he shifted his weight nervously.

"A ready up is a drill that I went over countless times for hours on end in basic training," Mason explained his voice even and calm. "It involves starting at the low ready, the position I currently hold my rifle in now. Snapping it, aiming and firing two shots at a target in less than a second. Interesting coincidence those targets were also at 50 meters." Mason's voice became hard and cold on the last line as he narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe we got off on the wrong foot," The Man said sheepishly still aiming at Mason.

"Indeed," Mason said his voice smooth again tightening his grip on his rifle.

"No harm no foul right?" The Man asked.

"Very well," Mason said.

"Hey buddy I didn't mean anything by it, it's ju-" The Man started to explain himself removing his hand from the shotgun's trigger to scratch the back of his head. This gave Mason the opening he needed and he wasted no time seizing it. He snapped up his rifle in under a second and fired twice as promised the shots so quick they sounded like one. His shot group would have made his drill sergeants proud. They hit the man in the center of his chest and were so close together that they would have fit on the same dime. The man fell backwards mouth agape frozen in shock blood spraying from his chest. The man hit the ground with a muted thud his shotgun landing next to him.

With the man on the ground Mason shifted his aim and fired once more drilling a neat hole through his forehead to ensure he was dead and stayed dead. Mason advanced on him rifle still shouldered and kicked the shotgun away from his lifeless hand. He then turned in a slow circle looking for others thinking maybe the man had partners. No one else popped up and no shots wizzed past his head. He still scanned the area for the rifle shots had been very loud and would draw in anything else that wasn't human. After seeing and hearing nothing for several minutes Mason knelt and looked at the man's shotgun.

He was right that is was a Remington 870 but the etching along the barrel said it was a full choke(fairly common for shotguns) making the max effective range 50 to 55 yards(roughly). Mason then picked up the shell the man had foolishly wasted and looked at that as well. It was magnum turkey shot, larger jagged edged pellets that stayed together fairly well. The extra powder and the type of shot further increased the range to about 60 to 65 yards. The previously owner had clearly known shotguns for turkey rounds were the closest thing to anti personal rounds one could get at a sporting goods store. It was also clear to Mason the man hadn't known to much about the weapon he looted. Mason smiled at his bluff and that the man had fallen for it, well the bit about the shotgun had been a bluff the rest had been true.

He then knelt over the would be bandit and started to go through his pockets. He found only a hunting knife and a slightly rusty revolver in his waist band. He didn't look and act like a bandit he seemed more like a scavenger. I guess a soldier in full kit with an assault weapon was too tempting to pass up, Mason thought. Since the dead man was so lightly equipped, this lead Mason to think that he had a camp somewhere nearby but he wasn't going to waste time looking for it. The man had no additional shells for the shotgun so he would leave that behind. The revolver was a 357 and he had half a box of shells but reloading a revolver in the heat of combat was a bitch. Not to mention it was in rough shape showing the man's lack of care for the weapon so he would leave that as well.

He got to his feet and looked the man over one last time as a he had a brief fight inside of his head. 'You had him believing your bluff you could have talked him down, could've ended this without killing him,' The usually quiet voice said the one that had stopped him for running out on Liz and fighting the Jack. 'Hey the motherfucker pointed a weapon at you with hostile intent,' The louder voice that had appeared halfway through basic training pointed out. 'You know the ROEs you had the right to use deadly force as soon as he aimed that weapon at you.' 'You didn't need to go straight to deadly force,' The other voice said. 'You've could have got him to lower his weapon then-' 'Then what?' The louder voice demanded. 'Walk away so he could shot you in the back? You couldn't trust that bastard.' 'But,' The quiet one started. 'But fucking nothing,' The loud one interrupted. 'It was because of you that I fought a Jack in hand to hand combat and took a nasty gash on the arm.'

Mason shook his head to try and clear it as he fought with two sides of himself. The louder more dominate voice spook for the soldier side of him. While the other voice represented what little civilian he had lift in him. He started walking away from the dead bandit when he felt incredibility dizzy and dropped to his knees to keep from completely falling over. Mason felt his heart rate shoot up and a dire thirst over take him. He sat down heavily leaning against a tree as his vision started to narrow as if he was looking through a tunnel. He wasn't a combat medic but knew enough battle field medicine to know he was going into shock, but he didn't know why. He pulled his shelve up on his BDU jacket and looked at the bandages on his right forearm and saw fresh blood leaking through. Clearly the wound was more serious then he originally thought. Then he was likely dehydrated and he had only one meal in the past two days.

Mason tried to get to his feet again leaning heavily on his rifle pushing its stock into the ground. He had almost made it to his feet when the weight of his rucksack and fatigue brought on by the shock caused him to flop forward on to his stomach. He lay there panting heavily and all he wanted to do was sleep and almost did succumbing to the fatigue. Mason then remember that you never let a victim of shock go to sleep. He managed to get to his hands and knees and then shakily get to his feet again using his rifle as a crutch. He looked at the bandages on his arm again, seeing blood starting to drip from it. I've got to stitch it Mason thought and opened his medical pouch again and pulled out his combat tourniquet. No time for that now, Mason thought as he slipped it on his wounded arm placing it above his elbow under his uniform jacket.

Using his teeth he pulled it as tight as he could get it already starting to feel the blood supply being cut off to his arm. He pulled the glove from his left hand and stuffed it into his mouth tasting worn leather, dirt and gunpowder. Mason then started to turn the torque bar on the tourniquet cranking it down even more. It made the tourniquet even tighter and he felt the blood stop flowing into his arm but it also hurt like hell being that tight. Mason screamed as he turned it another full turn the scream muffled by the glove. He breathed heavily and quickly through his nose just before he turned it one complete time causing him to scream again. After it was as tight as he could possibly get it he strapped the torque bar down to the tourniquet. He switched his watch to stopwatch mode and started it watching it count up for a few seconds. Mason only had two hours before his tissues started to die being starved of blood and oxygen.

That thought in the front of his mind he started to moving at a swift march. He just really hopped he was right about the location he was heading to, that there would be houses there. He walked for sometime his arm completely numb by then. He could still move it but he couldn't feel himself doing it and his finger tips were purple. Then to add insult to injury the sky had gotten even darker as thunder rumbled up above threatening to bring the rain. Mason increased his speed as he started to feel dizzy again and his legs were starting to shake. He was about to sit down and take care of his wounds having no choice but to do it in the open when a flash of lightening illumined the houses in the distance. Seeing the structures gave him renewed strength as he broke out into a jog heading for the houses.

Mason reached the closest house and was surprised to find the door already slightly ajar. He was about to back away and try for a different one when there was an ear splitting crack of thunder that caused a shiver to run down his spine. A second later large chilled drops of water began to land on his helmet and shoulders at a quick pace. Having little choice he ducked inside and slammed the door shut bolting it. He leaned his back against the door as he let his eyes adjust to the dark of the gloomy house. Mason clicked on his flashlight that was clipped on the left shoulder harness of his web gear. He shouldered his rifle and turned slowly sweeping the room the red colored cone of light following him wherever he aimed. He moved through the small two story house clearing every room using only the dim red light of his flashlight.

His luck seemed to be changing for he found the house empty of even infected, it did make sense for he was getting farther away from the heavily populated areas of the city. After checking that the back door and windows were locked he stumbled into the kitchen and flipped on the light. Mason was both happy and surprised when a bright ceiling light buzzed to life lighting everything in a warm glow. It also allowed him to see the kitchen table and the two six packs of beer sitting on it. What seemed strange to him is that it was exactly the same kind the other house had that he drank last night. It wasn't so strange since it was a major brand but there was still condensation on the cans. He touched one and found it still could, it was as if someone had set them out and stepped out for a minute. But he had cleared the entire house and found it empty.

Before he could give it anymore thought his watch beeped a single time causing him to look at it. It told him he only had half an hour left before he was going to have to remove the tourniquet or risk losing his arm. Mason dropped his rucksack and pulled the field surgeon kit from it and placed it on the table taking a seat at the table himself. He took off his web gear and BDU jacket before he opened the kit and pulled the medical supplies he would need from it. The kit was meant for a medic but when Mason had found him already dead he thought he might have a better use for it since it was better stocked then his personal med kit. Mason used the medical sheers to cut the bandage off and peeled it away carefully. When he looked at the gashes he gasped for they were very deep, much deeper than he had thought. It could have easily caused him to bleed out enough to pass out if he hadn't poured the coagulating powder on them and wrapped the wounds so tightly.

Mason threaded the needle designed for stitching skin before he pulled on form fitting rubber gloves in place of his combat ones. He then poured iodine into a small plastic cup, wiped the cuts with gauze and then smeared iodine on the cuts themselves. It stung like hell and Mason slammed his fist down on the table as he gritted his. After the pain had subsided he started to stitch the first of the five gashes on his arm only pausing to dip the needle in the iodine after each pass. It took him a while and his pattern wasn't as straight as a doctor's, for he had to use his left hand, but it got the job done binding and closing the wounds. After he finished with all five cuts he smeared them with iodine and wiped them with more gauze before he covered them in a disinfectant ointment and re-wrapped it in a fresh bandage.

After he had finished he looked at his watch and saw he only had three minutes to spear. He reached up and loosened the tourniquet he sighing as he felt the blood rushed back into his arm. Mason watched the bandages and seeing no red spots start to form he removed the tourniquet completely. He then took off the slightly bloody gloves and threw them away and washed his hands in the sink happy that the water was also running. He walked back to the table and took his helmet off placing it next to the beer. He took a can, opened it and drank some of it pleased it was still somewhat cold. Mason then placed everything back into the field surgeon's kit before he pulled his second uniform for his rucksack. He then walked to the room connected to the kitchen which was a small storage area where a washer and dryer sat.

Mason was planning on staying in that house for at least a day or two while he recovered a bit. He threw his second uniform into the washer, then setting his beer on the dryer stripped down so he wore only his dog tags that dangled from his neck and his boxers. They too were done up in woodland camouflage, his girlfriend had gotten them for him as a joke and he received all kinds of hell when some squad mates had seen them when they showered after morning PT. He threw the rest of his cloths into the washer as well, threw in some detergent that was stocked in the room and started the washer. Picking up his can of beer again he walked into the kitchen finishing the can. Mason pulled a second can from the same pack and placed the rest of the beer in to the fridge happy to see it was well stocked. As he started his second can he looked out a window to see it getting pelted by rain. It's really coming down out there Mason thought. It was only 3 in the afternoon and it was already dark outside due to the thick clouds.

The almost naked Mason set the can of beer down and picked up his rifle. He walked up the stairs leaving his web gear and rucksack behind. He reached the second floor and turned into the master bedroom and made a beeline for the attracted bathroom. He made his way over to the shower and slid the glass door open before turning on the water. He let it run for a bit before sticking his hand under it pleased that the water was warm. He leaned his rifle up next to the bathroom door, stripped off his boxers(tossing them into an untidy pile near his rifle) and stepped under the warm water sighing in pleasure. It had been a while since he had gotten to take a shower and even longer since a hot shower. That's why he stood under the water letting it roll of his head for several minutes. After he had gotten his fill he picked up a bar of soap and used it to wash the dirt, grim and sweat that had been stuck to his skin off.

Once he had finished cleaning himself he set the soap back down and just let the water flow over him again. His mind flashed back to Liz and laying next to her, it was that and the warm water that caused him to get a partial erection. Mason looked down at it and thought how it had been even longer since he had self gratification. He grabbed it, closed his eyes, leaned forward using his free hand to brace himself against one of the slick shower walls and started to jack off. He moved at a fevered pace wanting to get it over with as quick as possible. He thought about his girlfriend, celebrities he thought were attractive and then strangely Liz flashed into his mind. Mason was surprised at his last thought but he was close to the end and determined to finish and if that helped him so fucking be it. He leaned forward heavily placing more weight onto his bracing arm when he heard a creak. Mason dismissed it thinking he had done it himself while he attempted to get his self gratification.

He was so close so he really didn't care at that point. He moved his right hand even faster and grunted a single time when he heard another creak that was louder and closer. Mason snapped his eyes open and turned his head to look through the grass door. When he did he saw an extremely pale woman with glowing red eyes staring at him.

"Holy fuck!" Mason shouted as he immediately stopped and jumped back. When he did his right foot come down at an angle on the wet shower floor. The water caused it to slide out from under him and he fell backwards hitting the back of his head on first the back shower wall and then the tiled floor. He saw white stars before he was plunged into a world of black. He lay naked on the shower floor, water still hitting his body out cold with a Witch just on the other side of the glass door.

The Witch known to him as Liz stared at his naked form unsure of what to do. She had expected to frighten him but not to the point that he knocked himself out. Instead of tailing Mason like she had been doing she moved ahead of him. She found the group of houses and picked one he would most likely pick. She then searched the other houses for more of that drink Mason liked and seemed to make him more submissive. She had found two packs and left them on the table for him hoping he would drink some more of it before she revealed herself to him. She then hid in the house and waited for him. She had followed and watched him long enough that she knew how he searched structures and it was easy enough for her to move keeping ahead of him while he searched a room. She then waited for him to drink but he didn't drink nearly as much as last time, instead disrobed and started to wash himself.

She had decided to approach him then while he was unarmed but he was doing something. Something that as she watched him gave her a feeling she had felt before but couldn't remember what it was. What she did know is that it caused a heat to rise in her and she wanted to rush up and hold him. She want to help him with whatever it was he was doing. Although she didn't know how she would help or even what he was doing or why. She wanted to watch him do whatever he was doing forever but she had felt something tingle in her lower region and this caused her to shift her weight. When she did the floor had creaked and alerted him to her presence and he saw her. Before she could reacted he did and knocked himself out. She slowly walked up to the glass door and slid it open but only continued to stared at his naked unconscious form. She reached up and turned the water off before she started to stare at him again. Finally making her mind up she reached down and gently picked him up. She might look thin and frail but she was much stronger then she looked and was easily able to pick him up.

Mason was not a small man he was 6 feet and 200lbs. He had broad shoulders and trim midsection. His muscles weren't bulking but they were defined from being forced to work out in order to keep his position in the Army. So it was no small feat that she was able to easily pick him up, carry him and place him on the bed of the master bedroom. She watched him sleep a little unsure of what to do now. She did think it would be best if she wasn't in view when he woke up again. So she left the room and headed back down the stairs to let him sleep in peace, but not before grabbing his rifle and taking it with her.

It was another ear splitting crack of thunder that caused Mason to wake up with a single yell. He sat up sharply reaching for the rifle that should have been at his side instead only grabbing the soft blanket that was on top of the bed. His right hand instinctly went to his right thigh where his pistol should have been, instead he only felt his bare thigh. That's when he remembered he was completely naked and then he remembered being knocked out and laying on the floor of a shower. Now he was on a bed his skin was dry indicating he had been there a while and he had no idea how he could have gotten there. Then he remembered that _she _was in the house and that she had caught him masterbaiting. He brought a hand to his head when he realized she had caught him jacking it. He didn't know why but that was somehow worse than her just killing him.

Mason got to his feet and slowly made it over to the bathroom his head still throbbing. He walked in and went to grab his rifle but it wasn't there. That bitch Mason thought she took my rifle again. He then looked around for a towel or anything to cover himself but could only find his still dirty boxers. With little choice he pulled them back on, they were still damp from his sweat and felt grimy on his skin. Since she hadn't killed him and she had the perfect opportunity he was thinking maybe she was toying with him. Mason then thought he could reach his rucksack down in the kitchen, throw some clothes on, grab his rifle and get the fuck out of there rain be damned. He peeked his head into the hallway making sure it was clear before he quietly moved into it wishing he had more cloths on.

He made it to the stairs and moved down them at a snail's pace to keep from making them creak. Once he reached the bottom he was dumped into a living room that he could get to the kitchen from. Mason slowly crept over to the archway that would allow him into the kitchen when a noise stopped him. He moved up and pressed his back against the wall right next to the archway. He shot his head in to get a quick look before he pulled it back. What he saw in the quick glance confused him so he stuck his head in and left it there to get a real good look.

She was in the kitchen with her back to him hunched over his rucksack. What had caused him to risk a second longer glace was that she was wearing his helmet on top of her head. It was unstrapped, the chin strap hanging down on the right side, and was too large for her head and sat cocked to one side. Seeing that he had to stop himself from laughing for he found it, well he guessed the word was adorable. He then shook his head this thing wearing his helmet and digging through his rucksack, tossing items over her shoulder, could easily kill him ten times over. She pulled something out of his rucksack and looked at closely pressing her hands to her face but Mason couldn't see what. She turned around them and Mason was able to see what it was just before he ducked back around the corner.

What he had seen was terrifying, she had been holding his gas mask up to her face. Gas masks made anyone look frightening and intimidating but then to see her glowing eyes behind the lenses was scary on a whole new level. When she hadn't appeared around the corner, mask still pressed to her face, and gut him he stuck his head back around the corner. His gas mask now lay on the floor with the rest of items that were once in his rucksack. She had her back to him again but now she had his web gear on and it was clear it wasn't adjusted for someone of her small frame. It looked like it was ready to slip off her shoulders at any second and she hadn't buckled the belt. Like the helmet that still sat cockeyed on her head Mason found it adorable and somehow strangely arousing.

He was snapped out of his trance when she held something else up and he was able to see what it was this time: one of his grenades. His eyes grew wide when she put a single long claw through its pin. Mason reacted on pure instinct bolting from cover and sprinting for her. She was just starting to turn around, hearing his muted footsteps his bare feet were making, when he slammed into her knocking the helmet from her head. As they both fell to the ground Mason's hands went up to grab the grenade as the pin was pulled from them falling. He was able to clamp his hands down on it, just as they both hit the floor him on top of her and keep the spoon from flying off. Preventing the grenade from arming but now he was holding a live grenade in his hands. He quickly looked around and saw the open door of the basement and threw the grenade through the opening and down the stairs. He heard the grenade bouncing down the wooden steps and then chatter on the concert ground.

He then flatten himself on top of her covering her body with as much of his as possible(he was trained to do this for his body armor would have been tougher then a civilian's street cloths) holding her head down with his hands. He had just buried his head over her shoulder his forehead on the floor and chin resting on her shoulder. A second later the grenade went off sounding louder than anything thunder he had heard that night and shaking the entire house. The explosion had also blown dirt and dust back through the still open basement door. Mason got to his feet his ears ringing and very pissed off. So pissed off he forgot where he was and who he had dove to save. He reached down and jerked her to her feet his web gear that she still wore clattering.

"WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH YOU?!" Mason demanded forgetting what she was. "YOU'VE GOT A FUCKING DEATH WISH?!" She seemed to also forget what she was as well for she lowered her head like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. They seemed to both remember who they were at the same time. Mason gasped and took a step back after what he realized he had just done. She meanwhile jerked her head back up her eyes glowing a bright red as if a fire burned behind them. He tried to back away but she reached out and grabbed his right forearm right on the bandages. She squeezed hard knowing full well and hoping it would cause him great pain.

It did for Mason yelled in pain and dropped to his knees as she squeezed harder a low growl escaping her lips. Mason shouted in pain again as her grip tighten. This is it, Mason thought she's finally going to kill me. He looked up at her thinking that his suffering was finally over. When he did she could see those kind eyes of his that she loved. It was then she realized what she was doing and immediately let go of him horrified at herself for what she had done to him. Instead of getting up and running away like he always did he remained on the floor looking at the ground and holding his wounded arm that she had been squeezing. She was unsure of what to do then and raised a claw to place it on him but pulled it away thinking better of it.

"Just do it," Mason said softly. "I can't take the waiting anymore. Always being on edge. Just do it, just fucking kill me." She let out a frightened gasp, how could he think that she wanted to kill him. She couldn't even bear the thought of hurting him and then she remembered she had just been and knew that was part of herself that scared even her. She wanted to tell him that she would never hurt him, that she wanted to be with him, that she even...loved him. She opened her mouth to explain all this but what actually came out was.

"I no...hurt you," She said in a soft voice. "I never...hurt...want to...heeelllppp you." It wasn't what she had planned on saying but it got her point across. Mason snapped his head up to look at her his eyes wide.

"What did you just say?" Mason asked disbelieving.


	6. Past demons

Mason stared up at the Witch he knew only as Liz and her glowing eyes hardly believing she could talk let alone told him she wanted to help him.

"I," She explained tapping her chest. "Want to help...you...no hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," Mason mumbled as he looked at his arm and the bandages, he could see them already turning red. She had reopened at least one of his wounds and he was going to have to re-stitch it. "Why? I mean why do you want to help me?" Mason asked suspiciously getting to his feet still cradling his arm. She stared at him unsure of what to tell him, she just couldn't tell him the truth he wasn't ready for that.

"You help me," She explained. "Save me...from Hunter. You not...have to...but did...why?" Mason dropped his gaze to the floor as he thought about his own answer, the truth be told he didn't really know why he had fought that Jack. Mason gaze returned to his arm and the blood that was dripping down it to the floor.

"I've got to take care of my arm," Mason said walking over to the table pushing pass her. After he had picked up the field surgeon kit she had tossed on the floor. He took a seat and used the sheers to cut off the bandage he had just put on and had worked hard to keep from getting wet in the shower. Meanwhile she had walked over and stood looking over his shoulder, his web gear she wore chattering as the magazines clicked together. Her gaze was fixed on the deep cuts the Hunter had caused as he rubbed them with more iodine.

"He do that...Hunter?" She asked as she leaned in closer.

"Yes," Mason said simply she was still making him feel uncomfortable. He started to stitch the cut she had reopened with her looking over his shoulder. He was almost done when she leaned in even closer placing a claw lightly on his bare shoulder. Mason looked up from what he was doing and the side of her face was just inches from his. When she saw him stop she turned to look at him and now the front of their faces were so close together air couldn't pass between them. Mason quickly looked back down his face redden slightly. "Could you give me a little room to work please?" Mason asked as he started to stitch again.

"Sorry," She said as she took a step back from him his web gear rattling.

"Could you take that off?" Mason asked not looking up. She complied by removing the web gear and letting it drop heavily and loudly to the floor. Hearing that Mason sighed heavily but didn't say anything as he finished stitching and started to rewrap the wounds. As Mason worked Liz was left to stand behind him and watch him unsure of what to do or say. Her gaze eventually landed on his bare back, he was still almost naked only wearing his boxers. On his back were shapes and markings that Liz felt like she knew what they were. She recognized them as a tattoo and she subconsciously touched her own tattoo on her shoulder. She got closer to get a better look at the tattoo careful not to disturbed Mason as he worked.

His rather large tattoo was split up into two halves. On the right side of his back was the numbered _82nd _that was flanked by two spread wings. Underneath the number were several tattooed spent shell casings that looked like they were falling down Mason's back. Some faced downwards, other upwards a few even had wisps of smoke coming out of them. There was a total of 27 casings on the right side. On the left was the numbered _13th _with a black cat lurking behind them that had pricing red eyes. Under the 13 were more spent shell casings just like under the 82 but quite a few less. There were only 12 for a grand total of 39 shell casings falling down his back. Before she could stop herself she found herself reaching out and gently running the tips of her claws along his back tracing his tattoo. He stopped what he was doing tensing up his back breaking out into goose flesh at the delicate touch. He was about to say something, it wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but it was making him uncomfortable since she could easily drive those claws through his back. However she spoke first.

"What mean?" She asked still following the outlines of his tattoos with the tips of her claws. "Markings on back...what they mean?"

"My tattoo?" Mason asked knowing full well what she meant but buying himself as much time as possible.

"Yes," She said finding she was unable to stop tracing the dark lines. "Tattoo they mean...something?"

"Yes," Mason said closing his eyes but held his tongue. He sat still her claws moving down his back when suddenly they stopped. Mason was both happy she stopped but also silently willed her to keep going.

"What mean?" She asked unsure of why she stopped then. Mason took a deep breath for he was ashamed of his tattoo now and never wanted to explain it again. He then thought maybe he should explain, maybe it would do some good to explain his tattoo and the penance he placed on himself.

"I enlisted into the Army straight out of high school," Mason explained as to his delight she started to trace his tattoos again. "I was just 17 choose the infantry one because I wanted to be a badass and two for the 10,000 dollar bonus. I was highspeed enough that they asked me if I wanted to go airborne and I said 'hell yes'. So I did three weeks of additional training to become a paratrooper. I was assigned to the 82nd airborne after graduation. I was only there for a few weeks, when we got our orders: we were deploying to the Persian Gulf. We dropped in ahead of the main assault force and we got into some pretty nasty firefights before the bastards showed up. I stayed in the sand for a entire year and got into a few more firefights." Mason stopped talking, she stopped tracing, reluctant to share the next part.

"Each spent casing under the 82nd is someone I killed," Mason said his voice becoming cold. "Those are just the one's I know for sure I killed. I'm sure I killed more while manning a vehicle's turret driving by at 60 miles an hour, from grenades I threw or artillery I called in. I was young then and stupid thought killing someone was awesome made me into a badass. I was so full of piss and vigor that when I got back after my first tour I volunteered to transfer units to one that was getting ready to ship back out to the sand. They told me it wasn't an airborne unit and I told them I didn't care I just wanted to get back over there. That's how I ended up in the 13th Infantry Company, the shells under the 13 was how many I killed with them with another year there." Mason sighed deeply before continuing his story.

"It still wasn't enough for me I tried to transfer units again to get back over there," Mason explained his voice taking on a sad tone. "They wouldn't let me though made me see a shrink, told me they appreciated my enthusiasm but I needed to take it easy and relax. So I stayed with the 13th and grew up some. Did one more tour with them when I was 21 and that's when everything changed. We were only in country for a week and we were on a convoy I was the gunner of the third vehicle. We were moving down a road and a few local nationals were standing alongside the road waving. I was still weary of them, we all were, could be suicide bombers, distractions for an ambush or just friendly locals. Either way I had my eyes on them, my vehicle was just starting to pass a man with a little girl in front of him maybe six years old." Mason stopped talking his eyes darting around as he lost himself in the memory.

"He pushed her into the convoy," Mason said his voice heavy and unbelieving even though he was the one telling the story. "We were going 60 the driver didn't have time to do anything expect hit the brakes after he had hit her. There was literally nothing left of her but a red mist and puddle of gore. There was even her blood on...oh god it was on my helmet, goggles, my face, even in my mouth. We stopped and Captain Smith got out and talked to the man. I...I tried to wipe her blood from my face but it was all over my gloves and all I did was smear it around. Soon we were rolling again with the blood drying to my face from the heat, I wasn't able to wash it off till we got back to base two hours later. They had to wash what was left of that little girl from the wheel wells with a power washer. I found out a little later that the man was the girl's father and he had pushed her into the convoy to get a 4000 dollar settlement from the US government."

"I was appalled," Mason said his eyes gazed over as he was transported away lost in the memory. "I couldn't believe it the man had killed his own daughter for 4000 dollars. I couldn't wrap my head around it, I mean who thought so little of human life that they could just end it like that? That's when I realized me, I thought so little of human life that I killed without a second thought but what shocked me was how I use to enjoy it. Needless to say I hated myself and couldn't believe how I had acted. We came back I was 22 and had a whole new point of view. A year passed I turned 23 found myself a girlfriend I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. She even had me convinced to re-class out of the infantry then this shit happen before I could. It's different when you have to kill your own countrymen when all they did was get sick."

"Why you keep?" She asked his voice also sad since he seemed sad.

"To remind myself of what I was and how I thought," Mason said somberly. "Also that I ended the lives of at least 39 human beings. Then I found myself wrapped up in this shit fighting something that isn't exactly human. I see it as a fitting punishment. I figured it was a long overdue penance for my younger years. I'm not sorry for killing them, they were all trying to kill me, but I am sorry for taking enjoyment in doing so. That's what I see the penance is for the enjoyment of killing others."

"So you do good?" She asked. "For bad...you did. Why you...help boy in street...day ago? Why you...help me?" Mason turned around in his seat to look at her. She was smart, smarter then he thought and had such an attractive face.

"Yes," Mason said finding himself staring into her bright eyes. They were still red and glowing but they had a certain beauty to them. This seemed not to glow as bright and Mason could see the kind soul the eyes had once belong to before the infection. She stared back at him finally removing her hands from his back.

"That why...you help me?" She asked dropping her gaze to the floor her voice saddening. "To just...do good?"

"Yes and no," Mason said hoping she would look back up. When she did Mason explained himself. "When I saw you being chased by that Jack, or uhm Hunter, I knew I had to try and save you. I had done enough killing and thought if I could just save one deserving life I could make up for some of the lives I took. Then I had to leave you behind and you got infected anyway...I'm sorry."

"Other Hunter?" She asked. "Why you help then?" Mason thought about his answer a bit for he was still a little unsure.

"He was going to take advantage of you," Mason said his face reddening a little at the memory. "I couldn't allow that." Then so quietly that she didn't hear. "Not again, never again."

"Thank you," She said leaning in closer. "I help...you now."

"You don't have to," Mason said rubbing the back of his head still a little unsure about having an infected with him.

"I do good," She explained lowering her voice it becoming extremely smooth. "Like you...help you...like you help me...and boy."

"Well if you insist," Mason said his voice barely a whisper with how close their faces were. They stared at each other their faces just inches apart for a while as a crazy idea formed in the back of Mason's mind. He was about to follow through with the crazy idea when a loud buzz startled them both. He leapt to his feet as she faced the sound baring her claws and letting out a low growl. Mason laughed uneasily as he figured out what it was. "The washer," Mason explained. "My clothes are done." That's when Mason remembered he was just in his underwear and he rushed over to his rucksack looking for something else to wear. Everything was in the washer, now clean but sopping wet. The only thing he managed to find was a pair of PT trucks he quickly pulled on but still didn't have a shirt.

Mason walked back to the laundry room and shoved his wet clothes into the dryer. I can't believe you even thought about kissing her, Mason thought as he shoved the clothes in. One you don't know her and two she's fucking infected you jackass. If she wants to help you fine but just don't get too attached for she could still be fucking with you, wanting to kill you in your sleep. Having hashed things out in his own head and starting the dryer he returned to the kitchen and found Liz setting at the table his helmet back on her head. Not only was he uncomfortable with his state of undress but hers as well. She still only wore underwear and a bra.

"Maybe we can look around," Mason said looking around his eyes landing on his rifle she had put in a corner. "Maybe we could find you some more clothes if you'd like." He walked over to it, picked it up and slung it across his back.

"I fine," She said with a smile.

"You sure?" Mason asked really wishing she would want some more clothes.

"Yes," She said playing with his helmet's chin strap. "Hungry, I like eat."

"What do you like to eat?" Mason asked trying not to stare at her chest.

"People," She said the smile gone from her face eyes glowing bright red. Mason stared at her hand slowly going to his rifle. The smile returned to her face and her eyes seemed to dull. "Joke...anything fine." Although she had eaten people before.

"Oh ok," Mason said looking at the collection of MREs he had accumulated she had dumped out of his rucksack. He only liked to eat them when he didn't have anything else since canned goods were too heavy for him to carry only eating them at houses he would pass the night in. Plus the MREs didn't taste the best and nothing would clog you up as fast. Good enough for him but nowhere near acceptable for her. Listen to yourself man, Mason thought, why the fuck do you care what is 'acceptable' for her to eat. Mason didn't know but he found himself opening the fridge door and looking inside feeling the chilled air on his face and bare chest. He knew he wasn't the best cook, hell his girlfriend had commented that he could burn water.

He lucked out when he saw a carton of a eggs with a dozen eggs still inside. Perfect, Mason thought, even I can't fuck up making scrambled eggs. He pulled them out along with a half of stick of butter and shut the fridge setting the eggs on the counter. He then looked through the cabinets till he found a large skillet. He placed it on the stove and started it a blue flame coming to life underneath the skillet. Mason let the skillet heat up a bit before tossing the entire half a stick into the skillet and let it melt. He then cracked all the eggs into the skillet and used a fork to mix the yolks with the whites. A few minutes later there was a large mound of cooked eggs, coated with butter, in the middle of the skillet. He split it between two plates and carried them both over to the table setting one in front of Liz and the other on the opposite end of the table from himself.

Mason took a seat across from Liz picked up his fork and started to shove the food in as fast as he could go, as the Army had trained him. The eggs were also Army style meaning half of them were dry and over cooked. The other half a little under cooked the yolk still runny. They were also rather salty due to the amount of butter Mason had used. To Mason they tasted just fine, although he was eating them so fast he could barely taste them anyway. This would have been a horrible way to impress anyone let alone a woman but she didn't seem to mind. She watched him eat for a little bit before using one of her claws to pick up a handful of eggs and shove it into her mouth. She found it to be much better tasting then flesh and quickly shoved more into his mouth. After they had both finished at nearly the same time egg on both of their faces they sat in silence. Mason used a napkin to wipe his face and Liz quickly copied him.

"You have mate?" Liz asked carefully.

"What?...Oh a girlfriend...I do," Mason said then gave it more thought. "Well maybe...I had to leave her behind to deal with this infection bullshit. I'd like to think she is safe but with how quickly the world went to hell I highly doubt it. Plus I wouldn't be surprised if she had found someone else, there has been a long history of soldiers who's wife's and girlfriends leave them while they're on deployment."

"Single...then?" Liz asked blushing so lightly Mason didn't notice.

"There's a good chance...yeah," Mason said with a shrug not catching on. They sat in an awkward silence for awhile before Mason got up and picked up the plates. He placed them in the sink and thought about washing them but decided against it he was only going to be there for a few days at the most. Liz still sat at the table, his helmet on her head, but he had other things to figure out. He took out his map, unfolded it and placed it on the table along with his compass. Mason bent over placing both hands on the table as he looked the map over. Liz got up and moved behind him and found herself staring at his ass while he was bent over the table. She moved up behind him placing a hand on one of his shoulders as she bent to look at the map as well.

"You have plan?" She asked.

"Yes," Mason said with a cough when he felt her shift her weight so half of her body was pressed into the back of his.

"What plan?" She asked.

"My...our overall goal is to get here," Mason explained pointing at a large circled area of the map. "The international airport is...was our forward operating base. More than likely it has been abounded but probably in a hurry. Meaning there is a good chance there are plenty of supplies and even a few vehicle left behind. We can use them to leave this fucking city and I'm banking on that there are files there that detail locations of other FOBs in the area."

"Why not take car?" Liz asked. "Why have be...from Bob." Mason looked at her hiding a half smile she was defiantly sharp.

"First off it's FOB," Mason explained. "Also just in case the Army still has a presence in the city or maybe even a Vanguard left at the FOB. If that's the case we can just link up and get new orders...or I can. If the FOB is abounded we can take a military vehicle and hopefully just roll right through any checkpoints." Mason then looked at her as she nodded in understanding. That was his original plan and was as good as any he figured but now he had one complication. He was going to be traveling with a Witch and if there were any checkpoints as he tried to link back up with any functioning unit they sure as shit wouldn't let her. He was going to have to think of something before that time came.

"We go there...tomorrow?" She asked.

"No," Mason said. "We're going to hit this combat outpost first." He pointed at a much smaller and much closer circled area of the map. "There might be a few supplies there we can get although I doubt there will be a vehicle there in working order since it was a miatninnes shop." Mason glanced over to look at her as she stared at the map. "I was planning on staying her for a few days to recover. Will that work for you?"

"Yes," She said quickly glancing at his bandaged arm feeling partly reasonable for him getting injured. "Is fine."

"Good," Mason folding the map back up. "We'll stay here for a few days, maybe see if we can find anything useful in this neighborhood." A bright flash of lightening and roar of thunder put a period in Mason's sentence. "You know when the storm passes of course." He added sheepishly. He then looked at his watch it was only 6 in the afternoon too early to go to sleep but what was he going to do in the meantime. This wouldn't have been an issue if he was still by himself he'd just clean his rifle, top off his magazines or mend his uniforms. Now he had a guest he felt an obligation to entrain. She seem to feel the same for she stared at him expectantly, his helmet still on her head.

Mason glanced at his rucksack before walking over to it and looking through one of the outer pockets. He soon found what he was looking for and walk back over and stood in front of Liz but at a respectful distance.

"Here," Mason said holding out his boonie hat that was done up is desert camouflage just another souvenir from his tours. "Wear this for I kind of need my helmet." She took his helmet off and handed it to him taking the boonie hat from him. She placed it on her head but it was still too big and the front slid down and halfway covered her eyes. "Here." Mason said as he stepped closer and reached out and tilted the hat back so she could see. He them ran the string up that hung under the hat up so it was touching her chin to keep it from sliding again. "Too tight?" He asked as he looked into her eyes once again. She shook her head no and the hat remained in place meaning it wouldn't move around from her moving her head.

Mason took a step back and admired his handy work. He had to admit it made her look even more adorable then when she was wearing his helmet. With the way most of her hair flowed down out of the back of the hat and down her back with some that fell over her bare shoulders. Her bright eyes made her look even more stunning...and deadly.

"How I look?" She asked.

"Beautiful," Mason said before he could stop himself. "Or umh...you look good I guess." Mason said flushing and rubbing the back of his head. She blushed slightly as well her cheeks getting a little bit of color back in them.

"Thank you," She said smoothly at the complement. He was so kind, to her anyway, and all she had done was scare him half to death several times. I must do something for him, she thought to show him I care about him. "I help you now. I give...something you now."

"All you don't have to," Mason said still rubbing the back of his head cursing the dryer and it's slow speed.

"I must," She explained. "You do so...much to me. Is fair."

"Alright," Mason said his heart beating faster now and he didn't know why. "What'd you have in mind?" Here she hesitated for she didn't really know herself. The one idea that kept going through her mind was to walk up and place her lips over his. She didn't know why but she remembered that was a sign of affection. However she didn't think he was ready of that or if he would ever be.

"What you want?" She asked her voice incredibly soft and smooth after she couldn't come up with an idea.

"Uhm," Mason said for he didn't really know what he did want. Part of him wanted to rush up, sweep her off her feet and kiss her. The other half wanted to empty two full mags into her head then drop a grenade on her corpse. He quickly decided on what he thought was be a middle ground. "How about just a hug?" Mason said sheepishly his face reddening even more.

"Yes hug," She said happily and then the smile slowly faded from her face. "What hug?"

"Oh well it's when two people grab each other," Mason explained instantly regretting his decision. "But not in a mean or angry way...in a kind way. Well-"

"Like this?" She asked as she walked up and placed her arms around him cutting him off. He was taken completely by surprised and his arms hung uselessly at his sides before he reached up and returned the hug.

"Exactly," Mason said placing his chin on her shoulder she quickly did the same. Mason could believe how warm she felt and how right it also felt. She felt that feeling of joy she first had when he grabbed her last night while he slept wash over her. She never wanted to let him go, she wanted to stay like that forever. That's when she felt something stiff poke her in the stomach. "Alright that's good." Mason said quickly with an awkward cough and quickly pulled away and turned around just as quickly. "I have to go to the bathroom I'll be back." Mason said walking away and back up the stairs wishing he had more on then just a pair of rather tight fitting PT trunks.

He reached the upstairs bathroom and shut the door quickly. He walked over to the sink and turned on the cold water. He scooped some up that was he poured from the faucet and splashed it on his face. He repeated it till his erection had gone away his face, short hair, and chest damp with slowly drying water. Mason placed both his hands on the edge of the sink and looked himself in the mirror. What the hell is wrong with you, he thought a boner really? You sick fuck. There was a gentle knocking on the door that caused him to whip around.

"You alright?" Liz's soft voice asked on the other side of the door.

"Yeah," Mason lied. "I'll be right out Liz."

"Who Liz?" She asked causing Mason to curse in his head. That was just what he called her he had no idea what her actual name was. He walked over and opened the door and came face to face with her, she still wearing his boonie hat.

"You are," Mason explained. "I mean that's the name I gave to you after I noticed you following me since I didn't know your real name. What is your name?" She had to stop and think for she couldn't remember anymore but if Liz was how he thought of her that was fine.

"Liz," She said with a smile. "That fine...Liz. What yours?" Mason then realized that she couldn't have known his name either.

"Mason," He said simply. "But everyone calls me Mason." He smiled at his joke.

"Mason," She said slowly and carefully. "Glad meet you...Mason." Then before he could do anything she reached out and hugged him again. This time Mason pulled himself away so he didn't have to go back into the bathroom. The rest of the night he spent repacking his rucksack and then folding his clothes when they were done. He was happy to pull on his BDU pants and t-shirt but left his BDU jacket and boots off. He then cleaned his rifle and pistol after he topped off all his magazines while she watched him never far away. She would ask a question occasionally and he would answer but they stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the night the rain still pouring outside. When he finally fished he looked at his watch and saw it was 10 past 10 and decided it was time for bed for he was exhausted.

"I think it's time for bed," Mason said getting to his feet. She got to her feet a smile a mile wide on her face for she couldn't wait. Mason grabbed his web gear and rucksack before leading the way up the stairs. He walked into the master bedroom and she immediately pushed pass him to jump on the large plush bed. She laid on her back and scooted over to one side and looked up at him expectantly. "Alright if you need anything I'll be in the other room just down the hall." He said as he shut the door leaving her extremely disappointed. He walked the short distance to the guest room and shut the door he didn't what her to know what he was about to do. He dropped his rucksack and gear in the corner. He pulled his pistol from its holster on his web gear and placed it on the room's desk. He then took a small packet out of his medical pouch and set it next to the pistol. The last thing he took out was a note inside a plastic bag and also placed it on the desk.

He took a seat at the desk and started a ritual he had done a couple of times whenever he had gotten wounded by the infected. He dropped the pistol's magazine and locked the slide back ejecting the chambered round. Mason then opened the plastic bag the note was in and pulled out a single 9mm round. It was different from the others it was a shinny sliver instead of a dull gold. The head of the bullet also had what looked like a star stamped into the top of it. It was a hollow point that broke up when it entered something to ensure maximum damage. He inserted it directly into the pistol's chamber and snapped the slide forward before setting it back down.

Mason then opened the packet he had taken from his medical kit and pulled out its contents: a long cotton swab and sealed plastic test tube filled with a clear liquid. Sighing heavily he opened his mouth and swabbed the inside of it with the cotton swab. He opened the tube and placed the swab inside, the tube just a little longer then the swab. He resealed the tube and shook it gently for a few moments. Once he stopped he stared at it for a minute his heart racing in his chest. The liquid turned blue and he breathed a sigh of relief. His luck was holding he still wasn't infected even after a Jack had damn near torn his arm off. Mason ejected the hollow point and placed it back into the bag after he threw away the used infection test kit they were issued to test evacuees.

He reloaded the pistol and placed it back in its holster then put the note back into his rucksack. He walked over to the area in front of the bed and was about to lay down when his door opened. He looked up and saw Liz standing in the doorway boonie hat still on her head.

"What is it?" Mason asked alarmed snatching up his rifle. "Is everything ok?"

"Just noise...outside," Liz explained. "Scare me. I sleep...here?" Mason looked at her and blinked. He couldn't believe it here was the most deadly thing, woman he corrected himself he had even seen and she was scared of thunder?

"Yeah sure," Mason said as he placed his rifle next to him as he lay back on the floor. "You can have the bed I sleep on the floor anyway." Liz smiled happily as she walked in shutting the door behind her. Mason meanwhile was on his back staring at the ceiling expecting her to jump up on the bed like she had before. Instead she laid down next to him and before he could react she had snuggled up to him placing her head on his chest. Mason was about to say something but she was already breathing softly as if she was asleep and he didn't want to wake her up. So he placed a arm around her shoulders and laid his head back on his folded up BDU jacket he was using as a pillow. The last he did before he drifted off to sleep himself was pull his rifle tight to his chest in case he needed it.

Outside in pouring rain and looking in the bedroom window where Mason and Liz slept was a pair of hooded red eyes. They stared at the pair switching between Mason and Liz unsure of what to do. Those eyes had a score to settle with the human but didn't need to get into a fight with his pet Witch either. So the eyes leapt off the roof and landed on the ground on all fours before leaping away the rain and thunder drowning out the screech as they jumped.


	7. Complacent

Former Specialist Mason sat on the bunk of his prison cell in the maximum security cellblock of FT Leavenworth military prison. It was a seven by seven bare concrete room void of any windows the only light came from a single bare blub bolted to the ceiling. His cell door was even void of any bars and was just a solid metal door with two narrow hatches one at eye level the other at waist height. Besides the bunk that was bolted to the floor there was a toilet and sink in one corner but that was all. He spent 22 and a half hours in that cell, only getting an hour to run around a 10 by 10 concrete room and a half hour to shower. He ate all of his meals in there and when lightsout came around at 2100 his cell became pitch black making it nearly impossible to take a piss in the middle of the night. Mason hadn't seen sunlight in months and had no concept of time anymore.

The infection had been wiped out and humanity was starting to slowly rebuild itself and Mason thought everything was going to go back to normal. However he wasn't the only surviving member of his unit like he thought. There was one other that had testified to Mason's desertion, although the entire unit had deserted near the end(or what had remained of it). The witness then testified that Mason had shot a wounded comrade while he fled. Mason was placed under arrest and was investigated fully. That's when they found Liz and really flipped shit saying he was harboring the enemy and they took her away. Mason could only image what they were doing to her. Then to just add one final and long nail to his coffin they had found out what had happen in that village during his first tour when he was still with the 82nd. Mason didn't know how they had found out but they did.

Mason sighed heavily as he glance over at his tray of food that sat next to him on the bunk untouched. Instead of the unusual goop it look actually decent and it was meat loaf with mash potatoes and gravy his favorite. He sighed again as he looked down at his clothes. He wore his bright orange pants but instead of the orange shirt he normally wore he had on a plan white one with a black dot in the middle of it. Mason looked at his watch, it was the only thing they let him keep, and saw it wouldn't be much longer. As if on cue Mason could her the clicking of boots marching down the hallway till they reached his door where they stopped. He heard a key enter a lock and the snap of a bolt just before the hatch at waist height was pulled open. They didn't say anything for they didn't have to, for Mason had gotten use to this routine.

Sighing heavily Mason got to his feet and walked over to the door turning around so his back was facing the door. He then placed his hands behind his back as he bent so he could stick them through the open hatch. He felt the familiar cold steel of the handcuffs and heard the clicking as they were ratcheted onto his wrists tightly. After the handcuffs had been firmly attached to his wrists Mason pulled his arms back and turned to face the door just as he heard the bolt snap back. The door opened and three MPs in full battle rattle, minus the helmet, moved into his cell. Two stepped forward one placing a chain around Mason's waist while the other shackled his legs. The third MP stood in the doorway a shotgun held across his chest.

Once the other two MPs finished there was a chain around Mason's waist that his handcuffs were attached to, so he couldn't move his hands at all. His legs were also shackled with a chain that ran up from each leg cuff to the chain around his waist. The MP that was standing in the door moved to the side and one of the others gently shoved him from behind. Mason started forward only being able to take baby steps his chains rattling as he moved. He made it out to the hallway where two additional MPs waited they too were armed with shotguns. They MPs encircled him two in front, one on either side of him and one behind him. They started to move down the hallway at a very slow pace due to Mason's leg shackles only stopping at gates as they waited for them to open. They lead him to a red painted sold steel door and when they opened it bright sunlight flowed in blinding Mason.

Outside waiting for him were even more MPs all armed with shotguns just so if he even thought about trying to run in his shackles his back would be full of steel pellets. The large group of MPs lead him over to a high wall made out of sandbags and stood him in the center of it. There were two rings pounded into the ground at his feet and two MPs wasted no time chaining his legs to the rings so he couldn't move from that spot. Once Mason was immobilized the MPs finally backed away and moved away from. He was then able to see the five MPs that stood facing him in an evenly spaced line. They held M16s their stocks on the ground near their right foot barrel in the air gripped with their right hands. Their feet were shoulder with apart and their left hand was behind their back, the position of pride rest with a weapon.

Mason then could see the general, a colonel and a lieutenant in full dress uniform standing behind the line of MPs. Mason took a deep breath in for he knew what was coming and had been waiting for this day for months. The colonel stepped forward holding a clipboard bringing it up so he could read it.

"John, William Mason formerly Specialist Mason of the United States Army," The Colonel began reading from the clipboard. "You have been tried, found guilty and convicted for the following crimes. Desertion of your post, neglecting your duties as a US soldier, cowardness in the face of the enemy, insubordination, murder in the first degree, knowingly harboring and aiding an enemy combatant, conduct unbefitting of a US soldier, and seven counts of sexual assault. For these crimes for which you have been found guilty of you have been stripped of any and all rank. Any benefits that you or anyone else were entitled to due to your position in the Army are withheld. You are hereby sentenced to death to be cared out by firing squad. Do you have anything to say on your behalf before this sentence is carried out?"

"I do," Mason said as he looked up at the blue sky seeing it for the first time in months.

"Very well , proceed," The Colonel said.

"In regards to the sexual assault," Mason said looking the general in the eye. "I had nothing to do with it. I was told to guard a door and not let anyone pass, I had no knowledge of my superior's intentions nor did I find out till it was too late. I do regret not informing the chain of command once I did find out. The reason I did not was for fear of my own life, which I should have been willing to sacrifice for doing what is right. That is my only regret that and the murder of the fellow soldier, but there was nothing I could have done for him expect ease his pain."

"Very well," The Colonel said taking a step back. "Your sentence shall now be carried out." The colonel nodded towards an MP who walked over and placed a black hood over Mason's head. "Ready!" Mason heard the colonel shout followed be the clicking of M16s' bolts cycling. Before Mason had enlisted when he saw movies or video games that evolved military firing squads he thought that when they fired they were firing five bullets. The truth was that only one bullet was fired along with four blanks. None of the firers knew which one had the bullet so they wouldn't know which one actually killed him. "Present arms!" The colonel shouted and although Mason couldn't see it he could picture all the MPs aiming at him. They would all be drawing a bead on the circle on his shirt that was directly over his heart.

Mason closed his eyes and started to hum quietly to himself. A gentle breeze blew and he felt it on him as it rustled the hood. It felt cool and pleasant. The only other regret he truly had was never telling Liz how he felt about her but now it was all moot. "Fire!" The colonel shouted suddenly and the last thing Mason ever heard was the thunder of the rifles firing.

Mason awoke with a gasp seating bolt upright both his rifle and Liz's head falling from his chest. He quickly looked around and saw he wasn't in a prison cell but the dark bedroom and that it was still night out. He looked to the window and could see it was still raining as a flash of lightening illumined the room for half a second followed by the crash of thunder. That's what the rifle shots had been, Mason realized, just another rumble of thunder. He put a hand to his chest in an attempt to slow his pounding heart. It was just a dream, Mason thought, a very vivid detailed dream. He then felt another hand over his that was over heart. Mason gasped again as he turned to look at Liz her red eyes very bright in the dark room.

"You ok?" She asked her voice filled with concern.

"Yeah I'm fine," Mason said. "Just had a nightmare was all."

"Ok," Liz said even though she didn't really know what a nightmare was anymore. Mason laid back down and turned to his side to keep Liz from laying with him. He just wanted to be alone but didn't want to make her leave either. It didn't stop her as she moved around so she was in front of him. She laid down and squeezed herself in so her back was pressed against his chest and her head was under his chin. The way she had snuggled back up to him reminded Mason of a cat that wanted attention. Mason sighed heavily as he placed an arm around her again causing her to sigh happily and wiggle her body so it was pressed tighter against his.

"Why do you do that?" Mason asked as he closed his eyes preparing to go back to sleep.

"Make me happy," Liz explained. "I do not cry then...Close to you make happy." Mason who was about to fall asleep again wanted to give her a complement as well.

"Well you make me happy too," Mason said softly just before he drifted off to sleep. Liz's heart did a flip flop when he said that. Maybe he'll accept me, she thought, maybe he would even love me. Feeling his heat and body pressed against hers(well really hers against his) quickly lulled her to sleep. They were both unaware that the other red eyes had returned and were preached on the roof staring in the bedroom window. A flash of lightening illumined the eyes and if they had been looking they would have seen the hooded sweatshirt that the eyes wore. The eyes wanted to kill the human but they were also patient and would wait for him to be alone. They had no quarrel with the Witch and more importantly they did not wish to get into a fight with her. So Mason and Liz slept as the eyes just watched and waited enduring the rain and wind.

Mason awoke due to his internal alarm clock that had developed halfway through basic training at six. He sat up stretching his back and arms as he yawned just before he looked out the window. The rain had stopped and the sun was just starting to come up the sky having a bluish gray tint to it. Mason got to his feet and cracked his back before he picked up his rifle and walked over to the window. He peered out of it carefully scanning the landscape outside for he just couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched.

"What is it?" A voice asked right next to his left ear causing Mason to jump.

"Jesus," Mason said as he jerked to face Liz that now stood beside him. He hadn't heard her approach let alone get up, he was starting to get sloppy dropping his guard. As his drill sergeants would say he was getting complacent and complacently got soldiers killed. "Don't do that." Mason said as he turned to look back out the window.

"I am sorry," Liz said looking out the window as well. "What is problem?" Mason looked at her before turning to look out the window again.

"Nothing," Mason lied. He knew he was just being paranoid and didn't want to worry her.

"Ok," Liz said cheerfully. "I will make food today. Because you made food...other time." Mason turned to look at her raising an eyebrow. Her speech seemed to be improving and very quickly.

"That's alright I can make breakfast," Mason said.

"No I make," Liz said turning and starting to walk towards the door. "You have done lot. My turn."

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Mason asked as he watched her go.

"Yes," She said only stopping to pick up the boonie hat and place it on her head before she walked out the door. He watched her go thinking it was maybe for the best since she was making him complacent which wouldn't be good for either of them. He dropped to the ground placing his palms on the floor resting his rifle on top of them. He got up on toes most of his weight now on his arms and shoulders. He started to do push-ups and he had already decided that he wasn't going to stop at the minimum he was going to go till his arms gave out, wound be damned. He give his bandaged arm a quick glance and after seeing it wasn't bleeding he pushed himself back up. Mason did a total of 89 push-ups before it was physically impossible for him to push himself back up. He got to his feet picking up his rifle and wiping the light sweat that had formed on his forehead.

Mason grunted as he flexed his arms that had a dull burn in them now. He used to be able to 112 without stopping, he could almost hear his drill sergeants screaming in his head: 'You've gone soft private! Tighten up your shot group before you get someone killed!' Mason then remembered what else his drill sergeant had said: 'If you fuck up in the field you'll be lucky if you just get yourself killed. However more than likely if you fuck up you will get someone else in your unit killed. Then you will have to explain to his love ones that the enemy didn't kill that you did. Don't get complacent, that's when you fuck up and that's when someone dies.' Determined not to get Liz killed from him growing soft Mason slung his rifle across his back and walked into the bathroom. He then shaved the few days stubble that had grown on his face while he had been on the run from Liz. Mason looked at himself in the mirror and saw that his hair was getting a little long for his taste, but still within regs.

He walked back into the bedroom leaning his rifle on the bed to pull on his BDU jacket. As he buttoned it up a shrill whistle caused him to turn around looking for the source of the sound. He found it as the bedroom window was opened just a crack and the wind outside was whistling through. Mason walked over to the window as he finished buttoning his jacket and closed it all the way. Odd, Mason thought and then he felt a presence behind and Mason tried to turn around but a arm wrapped around his throat and pull him back. Mason tried to cry out but the only thing that came out was low gagging sound as he was pulled backwards forced to take a step back.

"Revenge," A voice hissed in his ear as the arm tighten on his throat. Meanwhile Liz stood in kitchen unaware of Mason's current situation. She was staring at a toaster and loaf of bread thinking they were somehow connected and more importantly had to do something with breakfast. But for the life of her she couldn't remember how. Then the bread was trapped inside of some infernal wrapping. She had tried to open it before but her claws prevented her from doing so. She then looked at her claws an idea forming in her mind, she lashed out suddenly shredding the plastic bag. The slices of bread freed of their constraints fell over onto the counter. Pleased with herself Liz picked one up and held the floppy piece of food unsure of the next step now.

Upstairs in the bedroom Mason had tucked his chin to keep his attacker from completely cutting off his air intake. After the initial shock Mason remembered his training and evaluated the situation. His attacker did have the advantage but their technique was lacking only using a single arm to try and choke him out. Mason had drilled being attacked like this and knew the simple counter. He reached up grabbing the arm around his throat with both of his hands. He then leaned forward while he pulled as hard as he could rolling his attacker over his shoulders freeing his neck. Mason's attacker landed on their back in front of him allowing him to see them. It was a Jack that wore the trademarked hoodie, hood pulled up to cover its face, and jeans. He wasted no time getting on top of the Jack before it could get up. Mason was sitting on the Jack's chest pining its arms with his knees. He was also sitting high enough that the Jack couldn't pull him off with its legs but not high enough that it could buck its hips and throw him off.

Mason reached down with his left hand, grabbed the front of the Jack's hoodie, lifted his head off the floor and punched him as hard as he could across the face. When he did Mason had let go with his left hand so not only did he punch the Jack but the force caused its head to slam back into the floor. Mason reached down grabbing the front of its sweat shirt and did it again, then again and again. As he raised his right fist to punch the Jack yet again Mason wished he was wearing his combat gloves that had the hard plastic covering over the knuckles. So he could really cause some pain to the infected bastard. Mason continued to punch the infected each time a little harder letting all his pent up anger and frustration enter the action. As he reached down to pull the Jack's head up yet again, the Jack's head hanging limply, Mason spoke.

"You like that you infected bastard?" Mason growled starting to shake the Jack. "Huh? Speak up!" Mason shook the Jack's head furiously causing the hood to slip down and him to stop. For this Jack was female her face bruised, cut and already starting to swell after Mason's blows. Mason stopped for he had never hit a woman before, in fact he despised men that did thinking them the lowest form of scum the only ones lower were rapists. Sure he had shot female infected but he had never started beaten one up and it just felt so wrong. Then other then the half closed red eyes and shaper teeth she looked just like any other woman. As Mason stared at her left hand still holding her hoodie right hand in the air ready to strike she seemed to recover a bit. She let out a low growl before she freed her right arm and lashed out, scratched Mason's face causing him to cry out in pain and let go of her. She then used her free hand to slash at his chest shredding the front of his jacket. As he gripped the side of his face blood spilling through his fingers she shoved him off of her.

Still in the kitchen and still unaware of the life or death struggle that was going up stairs was Liz. She had figured out how to work the toaster but couldn't get it to work right. This was made clear to her as she pulled out two more black bricks that used to be bread from the toaster. Sighing heavily she picked up two more pieces of bread from the dwindling loaf and placed them in the toaster to try again. She just knew that if she could please him by bringing him food perhaps he would love her. He had done so much for her, more then he could possibly image and she just wanted to do something for him.

Back upstairs Mason scrambled to his feet removing his hand from his face allowing the Hunter to see the deep cuts she had caused on his cheek. She reached up and touched her own face with a claw and could actually feel the damage he had caused. She let out a low growl regretting that she had not pounced him and instead tried to take him down the way she did. She had only tried to take him down by choking him for she didn't want him to scream and alert the Witch. The two stared at each other both hurting and didn't want to immediately engage in combat again. Mason glanced over at his rifle that was still on the bed and this caused her to look over at it as well. The two looked back at each other just before Mason lunged for his rifle as she dropped to all fours and leap through the air. Mason's hands had just closed around his rifle when she slammed into him. They both fell to the ground the rifle knocked from Mason's grasp but this time she was on top of him.

Being more comfortable with this position she started to slash out wildly meaning to shred the human. However he was ready for that and reached up pulling her head down and wrapping his arm around her throat as he wrapped his legs around her back, getting her in a guillotine choke. In her current position she could do little more than weakly hit the sides of his ribs doing little more than tapping them. Mason grunted as he pulled her head harder as he pushed with legs stretching her back and neck even more painfully. Mason held her there till her arms stopped moving and she went limp. Only then did he finally release her tossing her body to the side as he got to his feet. He made his way over to his web gear removing his shredded BDU jacket. He looked at his chest and stomach lucky his t-shirt was unharmed as so was his skin. However his face was in need of attention. Mason pulled a large gauze pad from his medical pouch, poured rubbing alcohol on it and pressed it to his cheek hissing in pain.

"I got you cook bread," Liz said cheerfully as she walked into the room holding a plate of four pieces of toast. They were the only pieces of bread that was left that weren't burned. Mason turned to look at her still holding the gauze to the side of his face. Liz saw the wound and then the body of the Hunter. "What happen?" She asked her voice cold as ice.

"The Jac-...Hunter jumped me," Mason explained. "I took care of it though."

"No you did not," Liz said coldly setting the plate down. "She try to fool you. Is not dead, only trick." Mason watched shocked as she went over to the Hunter and picked her up by the front of her hoodie. "She no fool me." Liz growled as she shook the Hunter. Mason watched as her eyes opened and locked with Liz's both were narrow and full of hate. He couldn't believe it she was still alive and he only assumed she was dead. He hadn't even planned on shooting her while she was down. He was getting far too complacent and it had almost killed him twice now.

"What do you want?" Liz demanded from the Hunter speaking as an infected not a human.

"The human," The Hunter explained. "He killed my mate I want him dead."

"Well he is my mate," Liz explained still holding the Hunter off the floor. "And if I ever see you again I will kill you."

"He killed my mate," The Hunter growled.

"You mate tried to have his way with me," Liz explained. "My mate simply protected me."

"He still killed _my _mate," The Hunter growled again.

"I understand," Liz growled becoming tired with the Hunter. "I am only letting you live this time because my mate beat you and lives." Liz threw the wounded and humiliated Hunter to the floor. "This is your last chance leave with your life." The Hunter glared at Liz for a long while before she leaped out the window shattering it. Mason had watched this having no idea what they said, to his ears they were nothing more than growls and grunts.

"What was that about?" Mason asked pulling the gauze away from his face.

"She no bother us anymore," Liz explained.

"I don't trust her," Mason said flatly. In fact he was disappointed with himself and his complacently. Now he was going to fix that, Mason moved over to the bedroom's closet and started to go through it. He pulled out a few pair of woman's jeans and several different shirts and tossed them on the bed. "Try those on find something you like and that fits." Mason ordered.

"I said I fine," Liz protested.

"Please," Mason sighed turning to look at her with those eyes she loved so much.

"Ok. Why?" She asked picking up a pair of jeans and holding them up to her waist.

"We're leaving," Mason said as he placed a pair of shoes on the bed for her as well.

"But your arm," Liz said pulling the jeans on.

"I'll be ok," Mason said pulling his boots on followed by another BDU jacket. "We need to move it's not safe here anymore."

"You will be ok?" Liz asked eyeing him carefully as he pulled on his web gear.

"Yeah," Mason said strapping on his helmet and heading out the door. "You stay there and finished getting changed." Mason called over his shoulder.

"Ok," She called after him. Mason went over to one of the other bedrooms. He walked inside his boots making the floor creak. He picked up the backpack he had seen earlier and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. He started to shove all the canned goods along with dry foods such as uncooked pasta and rice into the backpack. He then placed whatever containers that could hold water into the backpack as well. With that complete he zipped up the slightly heavy backpack and walked back up the stairs. He walked into the bedroom he had left Liz in to see she had finished getting dressed. She wore slender jeans that hugged her hips, a yellow t-shirt and unbuttoned jean jacket with a pair of tennis shoes on her feet. The last thing she did was place his boonie hat on her head.

"You look nice," Mason said causing her to smile as he held out the backpack. "Look I don't want have to do this but if you could carry this it would really help me out." She reached out, took the backpack and slipped it on. "Thank you." Mason said pulling on his heavy rucksack. The last thing he grabbed was his rifle and pulled the charging handle halfway back to view the round in the chamber.

"You ready?" Mason asked as he let the bolt snap forward again.

"Yes," Liz said moving to stand behind him.

"Then let's go," Mason said opening the door and walking through rifle held at the low ready. He lead them down to the front door and stopped. "Alright stay behind me at all times. If anything should happen to me I want you to run." She opened her mouth to protest that when Mason spoke again. "Look just promise me if I go down you'll run."

"Ok," Liz said dropping her gaze. Mason stared into her eyes to ensure she wasn't lying.

"Good," Mason said as he opened the door and moved out with shouldered rifle.


	8. General orders

Mason moved down the middle of the street passing the seemly deserted houses, rifle pocketed in his shoulder and eyes sweeping ever window and doorway. He would have liked to search the houses but he felt like they didn't have the time. Plus if they made good time they could reach the COP before nightfall. Mason moved placing each booted foot with careful precision everything that had been drill into him was screaming at him that he was wrong. That he shouldn't been in the middle of the street in the open. He should be near cover watching the roof tops for snipers or piles of trash for IEDs. However the enemy he was now fighting was different, forcing him to fight differently as well.

Mason risked a quick glance behind him to look at Liz as she followed him. She was the complete opposite of him. Where he was tense and alert coiled to strike at any second. She meanwhile was relaxed and lose. She walked with a slight bounce in her step, she even had a slight content smile on her face. It was as if she was just strolling down the street on the way to work or meeting friends for lunch. That's when Mason realized that this was no longer his world but hers. Where everyone in this new world wanted to kill him, she was one of them. She had nothing to really fear for them unlike him.

Mason looked forward again as they passed an abounded car as a force of habit he gave it a wide arc incase it was a VBIED. After he swept the side alley and windows for lurking infected, he pulled his map from his breast pocket. It was folded so the section of map of their location was already on top, saving him some time in not having to unfold it and refold it. They only had to make it through this neighborhood, turn down a side street, then onto a highway that would lead them right past the COP. He was gambling that there wouldn't be too many infected near a (hopefully)deserted highway. They just had to make it though this neighborhood, and try to avoid any infected that were in this area. Mason was also betting that the infected would have retreated indoors due to the rain.

A crack of thunder followed by a gust of chilled wind roused Mason from his thoughts. He looked up at the sky and saw that it had gotten dark and overcast again. Must going to rain again, he thought as he looked up at the swirling clouds stuffing the map back in his pocket. As if to confirm his theory a single raindrop fell and landed on his cheek. He looked over at Liz and her glowing eyes that were looking up at the sky as well. Sighing Mason droped to a knee removing his rucksack from his shoulders and set it on the ground. He opened it up and rummaged around inside till he pulled out his poncho, like everything else of his, was done up in woodland camouflage. He secured his rucksack back on his shoulders before he walked over to Liz.

"It going to rain again soon," Mason said holding out the poncho. "Put this on." She accepted the poncho and Mason helped her put it on. Once she had it on, the hood pulled over the boonie hat Mason stepped back. It was big and looked more like a shapeless dress on her then a poncho.

"Look I just like you now," Liz said happily. Mason looked her over and had to admit she kind of had a point. The woodland camo did match perfectly with his uniform's camouflage, then when she held her hands at her side the long garment hid her claws. The only thing that would give her away as a Witch would be the glowing eyes but even that would be hard to see with the hood pulled up. As he looked at her a funny idea began to form in the back of his mind. As more raindrops started to fall faster landing on his helmet and shoulders he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He turned around and started to press forward again the rain starting to come down faster. "Hey what about you?" Liz asked as she noticed he didn't have any protection from the rain.

"I'll be fine," Mason said a hollow smile touching his lips. "If it ani't raining you ani't training."

"What that mean?" Liz asked walking behind Mason who still had his rifle pressed to his shoulder.

"Nothing," Mason said taking point again sweeping the area in front of him. "It was just something that my drill sergeants would sa-" He stopped suddenly when he thought he heard something even though the rain. Mason came to a stop and started to aim higher sweeping roof tops and higher windows. The sound he thought he heard was a cough but not just any cough a deep cough of someone with damaged lungs: a smoker's cough. He knew then that a Gene was nearby. He also knew that civilians called them Smokers but couldn't really understand why. The only thing they had to do with their name was the cloud of spores that surrounded them and the cloud of smoke they released when they were killed. The name didn't really reflex how they attacked or hunted. If he had to pick the name he would have called them Lickers or something along those lines. Either way he had to find the bastard before he could grab him. A ear splitting shriek caused Mason to whip around just in time to see a long tongue ensnare Liz and yank her up and away.

"LIZ!" Mason shouted as he watched her being lifted into the air pulled towards the roof of a building. He snapped his rifle up trying to see the target but unable to, due to the rain.

"MASON HELP! PLEASE!" Liz cried out struggling as she was pulled farther away. Not being able to see the target and hearing Liz scream caused him to do the one thing his drill sergeants told him never to do: panic. Mason fired at the building at random hitting it high near the roof or the rounds passed just over it. As he fired he could see Liz was only getting pulled farther away till her back slammed into the side of the building he was shooting at. He then watched in horror as she was pulled up and had almost reached the roof. Something slammed into his back knocking him to the concrete splashing up a puddle of water.

He knew what it was the second it started to snarl and growl as it ripped at his rucksack, an infected that had snuck up on him. He couldn't believe that he had and was making so many mistakes. But that stops now, Mason thought as he used a considerable amount of strength to roll over pinning the infected to the ground with his rucksack. He then quickly slipped out of the straps and got to his feet placing a boot on his rucksack to keep the infected pinned. Mason shouldered his rifle aiming at the infected's forehead as he still struggled his arms and legs pinned under Mason's rucksack. He fired once point blank the round punching a neat hole through the infected's head finally quieting him. His rifle's bolt locked back having just fired the last round in the magazine. As he dropped the empty mag and shoved a new one in he watched the rain already washing the blood away that was leaking from the infected's head.

A shriek of more infected caused him to snap his head back up. More infected were running at him their feet splashing up water. He then watched, as his stomach dropped, as more infected came out of buildings and into the street. It seemed Liz's scream and his gunshots had gotten their attention as all the infected in the neighborhood were rushing towards him. Mason glanced back behind him just in time to see Liz's feet disappear as she was pulled completely up to the roof of the building. He turned to watch the infected as they continued to charge him.

"I don't have fucking time for this!" Mason growled as he slapped the side of his rifle hitting the bolt release, ridding the bolt forward. He snapped his rifle up and fired a burst at the closest infected hitting him center mass dropping him hard. Mason took a step back getting closer to the building Liz was pulled to. He fired again dropping another infected he then took another step back. Mason felt and heard footsteps behind him and turned to see even more infected running at him from the opposite direction. He fired twice more killing one more infected and wounding another when his magazine ran dry. Mason swore as he dropped the empty mag letting it chatter to the pavement. He shoved a full one in and slapped the bolt release as he started to back up from the second group of infected firing as he did so. He whipped back around just as the lead infected of the first group was almost in arms reach. He fired point blank knocking the infected to the ground some of her blood splashing on the front of his uniform, the rain already starting to wash it away.

Mason continued to fire into the first group as he backed up getting closer to the second one. Mason swung 180 again and fired into the second group that was quickly gaining on him. He fired switching between the two groups as they continued to gain ground on him as he tried to move closer to the building Liz was abducted to. He pressed his back against the door and fired one more burst dropping an infected that lunged at him emptying a third magazine. Both groups were dangerously close to him now as he reloaded. He spun around squaring up with the door and planted his right foot just about the doorknob, kicking it in. Mason rushed in feeling the hands of the infected just miss him as he rushed inside the building. He turned around and fired into the infected that were massed in the doorway.

The doorway acted as a fetal funnel Mason was able to exploit keeping the remaining infected bunched up and unable to get to him. After two more mag changes the remaining infected were finally killed leaving a large pile of bodies in front of the door. Mason stood up having dropped to a knee to fire more accurately. He then started to sweep the building which was a mom and pop pizza joint. As he walked water dripped from his uniform and rifle leaving a trail of water droplets. He just had to find the way to the roof, kill the infected mutated bastard that took Liz and get her out of here. He found a metal door with _mechanical and roof access_ written on it. Convenient, Mason thought as he tried to the doorknob to find it locked. He squared up with the door and kicked his foot out as hard as he could planting it in the same place as before. The door shuttered but didn't give way.

"Son of a bitch!" Mason shouted as he fell to the ground grabbing his knee. "What I wouldn't give for a damn breaching charge or fucking shotgun!" Mason managed through gritted teeth as his hugged his injured knee closer to his chest. Knowing he didn't have time for a break he got shakily to his feet trying to keep as much weight of his right leg as possible. He started to throw his shoulder against the door getting as much weight behind it as he could. After doing that and having nothing to show for it expect a hurting left shoulder. Mason fell to the ground in defeat as he nursed both an injured knee and wounded shoulder. He snatched up his rifle and pulled the half full magazine from it. He pulled a magazine from his web gear that had a ring of red tape around the bottom. He looked at the rounds inside to see they had black painted tips, armor piercing rounds with solid steel cores and full copper jackets. He tapped the magazine against his helmet to ensure they were seated in the magazine correctly before shoving it into his rifle.

Mason placed the rifle's stock against his right hip as he got to his feet again. He gritted his teeth as he fired pulling the trigger quickly only loosely aiming. He fired hitting the door, doorknob and doorframe punching neat holes all the way through. Once he had empty his magazine the doorknob and around it looked like Swiss cheese. Mason reloaded and took a deep breath as he readied himself. As he exhaled he started to run at the door lowering his left shoulder to slam it into the door. This time when he slammed into it the door swung open and Mason stumbled into a dark room with a water heater, boiler and ladder bolted to the cinder block wall. He slung his rife across his back as he started to climb the ladder keeping his right leg off of it the best he could.

Meanwhile on the roof that Mason was currently climbing to was a very pissed off Witch and confused Smoker. The two were currently face to face, he still hard her ensnared in his tongue. When he had first pulled her up he had thought her a human and was truly surprised to turn her around and see her glowing eyes kept in shadow by the poncho's hood. The taller infected didn't know what to do as they locked eyes.

"Release me at once," Liz demanded speaking as an infected once again.

"You're a Witch," The Smoker said his speech not hindered by his tongue being wrapped around Liz.

"Indeed and release me at once or suffer!" Liz demanded trying to struggled against her bounds.

"That seems like a excellent reason for me not to set you free," The Smoker said regaining his composer. "Tell me, why are you traveling with a human?"

"I wasn't traveling with a human," Liz lied still trying to break free. "I was hunting him." The Smoker arched an eyebrow.

"I have never seen your kind hunt like that," The Smoker remarked. "Why do you wear that?" He asked using a hand to lift up some of the large flowing poncho.

"To hide who...what I really am," Liz explained coming up with a lie quickly. "So I could get closer to my prey."

"You know I could help you," The Smoker said. "I could grab the human and we could both feast upon him. In fact I could do it right know." He started to lower her to the ground and turn around.

"NO!" Liz shouted causing him to lift her back up and turn around eyeing her evilly.

"I knew it," The Smoker growled. "You think I am stupid? I heard you call his name in his speech as I pulled you away. I thought you were just a human imagine my surprise to find out you were an infected. You fancy him don't you?"

"Let me go," Liz growled her eyes glowing a piercing red.

"I don't think I will," The Smoker said bringing her closer to him. "In fact since I can't really eat you I'll just have to settle for your human pet."

"No please don't," Liz begged her eyes dulling.

"And why shouldn't I?" The Smoker demanded. He then pulled her hood down and placed a hand on the side of her face gently caressing it. "Perhaps you could give me something else instead."

"If I do you'll leave him be?" Liz asked lowering her head in shame.

"You have my word," The Smoker whispered rubbing the side of her face. He then pushed her to the roof top keeping her entangled with in his tongue. He then lay on top of her and whispered in her ear. "You know there are over 30 infected in this area and I haven't heard your human pet use his weapon in a long while. I fear he might be dead my dear." Tears started to swell in her eyes and fall down her cheeks. He broke his tongue off but she was still trapped as he bent down and licked the side of her face with his rapidly re-growing tongue. She closed her eyes as she couldn't believe Mason was dead and now this was happening to her. Suddenly something warm, warmer then the raindrops, landed on her cheeks and forehead. She opened her eyes and saw that it was his back tainted blood dripping from his mouth his one good eye wide in shock and pain. She then watched stunned as he got off of her and she was able to see why.

It was Mason and he had his bayonet that was still attached to his rifle jammed into the middle of the Smoker's back. Mason had done this for when he had reached the roof he was able to see the Smoker lower Liz to the ground. He couldn't risk shooting it and hitting Liz in the process. So he had limped over on his bad knee and throbbing shoulder, thrusting his bayonet into his back. Mason used that to pull him off of her and forced him to his knees as blood dripped out of the Smoker's mouth. Liz watched Mason happy that he was alive but a little fearful of him as well for his eyes were deathly narrow and he wore a sinister sneer.

"See the Gene dressed in black," Mason growled through gritted teeth both from anger and pain. "He is the one with my bayonet in his back." Mason twisted his rifle twisting the blade as he said it. The Smoker tried to cry out in pain but only blood bubbled from his mouth. "I am the one that he did not see." Mason growled as he pushed the blade deeper into his back forcing the Smoker onto his stomach. Mason then wiggled the bayonet still logged in the Smoker back causing more blood to come out of its mouth and back. He then pulled the blade out suddenly and limped to the Smoker's side. Mason then used a foot to roll the Smoker over onto his back. "Queen of the battle US Infantry." Mason then fired one round through the bastard's head causing a cloud of smoke to erupt from his body. He walked out of the cloud of smoke the rain was quickly dispersing. When Liz saw him walk out of the smoke she reacted in fear trying to shield herself but the Smoker's tongue still restrained her. However his face had soften his eyes back to their normal size and the sneer was replaced with a look of concern. Mason limped over to where Liz lay and knelt beside her.

"You ok?" Mason asked removing the tongue from around her. Liz looked at Mason not believing he could ask her such a question when he wasn't. One of the many perks of being an infected she could tell when a human was injured, how badly and where. The worst was still his right forearm where the Hunter had scratched him. Then his right knee, which was a new injury, was clearly causing him a large amount of pain. Next was his face which wasn't life threatening or hindering him in anyway but must sting and burn still causing him pain. Lastly was his left shoulder it was going to burse and probably swell. Then he was unprotected from the rain unlike her. His uniform was completely soaked through and she could see his body temperature had dropped slightly. "Hey are you ok?" Mason asked again pulling Liz to her feet real concern in his eyes.

"Yeah I am fine," Liz said. "Are you o-"

"I'm fine," Mason said before she could even finish. "Let's go." Liz watched him as he started to limp towards the door that would allow them to climb down. She watched as he wanted to bring a hand to his sore shoulder but brought it down quickly when it was halfway up. She wanted him to rest but knew he never would, thinking he had to place her needs and safety above his own. So she quickly came up with a idea. She took one step on his right foot and cried out in fake pain as she collapsed to the ground. Mason whipped back around at her cry of pain the concern ever present in his eyes. "What's wrong?" Mason asked heading back over to where she lay.

"My," Liz started but had forgotten the name of the body part the was suppose to hurt. She point at her ankle.

"Ankle?" Mason asked kneeing beside her again.

"Yes," She said nodding quickly. "My ankle hurt. Cannot walk."

"That's ok," Mason said reaching down and scooping her up. He placed her arms over his shoulders and leaned forward her stomach pressing into his back. Most of her weight was now on Mason as he used a combat carry to carry her. His right hand was still free so he could fire his rifle one handed if need be. "Keep as much weight off your bad ankle as you can."

"Ok," Liz said gripping his chest tightly. She swore inside of her head instead of helping she only burdened him even more. Once he reached the ladder he let his rifle hang by its sling around one arm. He then reached down and placed a arm under her butt and this caused a shiver of heat to run up her spine at his touch.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," Mason ordered.

"Ok," Liz said her knees feeling a little weak from his arm under her butt. She warped her legs around his trim waist crossing her ankles in front of his stomach. When she did that he removed his arm from under her butt and mounted the ladder. He grunted in pain as he was forced to put equal weight on both legs as Liz's added weight was too much for one leg to hold. After they reached the bottom and he stepped out of the mechanical room she removed her legs from around him relieving him of some of her weight. He carried her to the dining room of the pizza joint and set her down in a chair.

"You wait right here," Mason said with a sneeze followed by a quick shiver. "I'll be right back."

"Ok," Liz said as she watched him leave the restaurant entering the rain once again. She quickly lost sight of him and this caused fear and sorrow to well inside of her chest. However she saw him return now wearing his heavy rucksack his limp worse due to it. He walked back inside and up to her water dripping off of his helmet.

"Give me your arm," Mason said. "We have to make the COP before nightfall."

"I fine now," Liz said jumping to her feet. "I can walk now." Mason's eyes widened in surprise and shock when he saw this. "We heal fast." Liz said tapping her chest. Mason knowing nothing about how the infected healed accepted this as fact and just nodded.

"Ok," Mason said turning to leave. "Let's go. Let me know if you need a break."

"What about you?" Liz asked walking up behind them. "You in pain."

"Pain is a good thing," Mason said with a half chuckle. "It is weakness leaving the body. It is your body making you stronger. And the best thing about pain is it lets you know you're still alive." Liz's mouth open in shock of what he just said.

"Who teach you such horrible things?" Liz demanded.

"Army drill sergeants," Mason said dryly moving out into the rain shouldering his rifle again. Having very little choice she followed him into the ran again moving behind him. 10 minutes later they had made it to the highway and with the exception of a few abandoned cars and dead bodies it was deserted. They walked in silence the once content half smile on Liz's face now gone replaced with concern for Mason. His limp had only worsen and she could almost see the grimace on his face as he walked. It had gotten to the point where he was using his rifle as a crutch. He would place the stock on the ground lean heavily upon it and then take a step with his right leg. They stopped to eat a quick wet lunch of MREs Mason preparing both of them one for him and one for her. She didn't find them that bad, not that great but not that bad either.

After lunch and Mason swallowed a handful of pain killers they started to walk again. Night was starting to fall making Liz nervous, not for her safety for she could see quite well in the dark but for Mason's. Mason suddenly stopped in front of a gravel turn off from the main highway. He removed the rifle from the ground and pocketed in his shoulder again as he waited for Liz to catch up. The gravel road lead to a large flat clearing also covered in gravel but encircled in razor wire. There were several large tents set up with quiet generators nearby cables running to the tents. Floodlights were spotted around the outpost along with a small motor pool with a few Humvees and a truck were parked in. However most of their hoods were open wires and tubes hanging out. It was clear to Mason that this were the vehicles that were cannibalized for parts as the working ones were already gone.

Set in front of the outpost and at the end of the short road was an armed checkpoint. It was two machinegun nests made out of a U of sandbags at chest height. Plastic road dividers sat in between the two nests set up so an approaching car would have to slow and zig zag between them to get into the COP. The usually signs were posted in front of the checkpoint. Stating this was a military outpost, to slow their vehicles down and may be subject to searches. Being noncompliant will get you shot. A M240B, the predecessor of the M60, sat on each nest belts of ammo still dangled from their feed trays. Spent shell casings lettered the ground around the checkpoint. The ground and few trees in front of the checkpoint was pock marked and a few bodies of infected were in on the ground in front of the checkpoint. Maybe they really do eat their dead, Mason thought as he slowly started to walk towards the checkpoint.

The machinegun nests were still manned by the bodies of fallen comrades. Their skin was pale almost gray with chunks missing from their face, neck and arms. Still their faded and torn uniforms were clearly visible. The gunner had died his hand still around the machinegun's grip and had fallen forward his body resting on the weapon itself. The assistant gunner was laying on his back mouth stuck in a scream as he stared up at the sky his mouth filling with rain water. The other machinegun nest was just as bad. Mason felt a shame grow inside of him. These four soldiers didn't abandon their post but stayed and had paid the price. Still their sacrifice might have been worth it since Mason couldn't see many bodies in the outpost itself. Mason knelt and checked the unit patch of the dead assistant gunner to find him part of the 15th Infantry Company. His unit's sister company, same battalion different company. Mason checked his neck and found he still wore his dog tags, so he removed one of them and added them to his sleeve pocket.

"At ease private," Mason said speaking softly. "You're relieved now." Mason patted the dead man's shoulder as he got to his feet again. He then collected the rest of the dog tags of the defenders before pushing deeper into the outpost Liz at his back. She could tell seeing the dead soldiers had gotten to him, could tell by the look in his eyes and the slight droop in his shoulders. She decided not to bring it up yet as she followed him. "ANYONE HERE!" Mason shouted once he reached the middle of the camp. "SOUND OFF!" A loud muffled growl caused both Liz and Mason to face the tent from which it had come from. A former soldier rushed out of the tent and stopped in the open as he looked around trying to find who had shouted. He was still in full battle rattle to include body armor, web gear(with grenades and magazines still attached), and helmet. He even wore his gasmask hiding his face expect for his white lifeless eyes that were visible from the mask's lenses. His rifle hung from its slung that was still around him the rifle itself in front of his chest. He let out a screech that was muffled by the mask as he rushed Mason and Liz.

Mason snapped his rifle up but held his fire letting the former comrade get closer. Once he was only a few feet away he fired just once taking the infected in the forehead punching a hole through his mask. Mason watched as the infected fell backwards landing hard on his back. He them moved into the tent they had came from stepping over the dead infected clicking on his flashlight. The inside of the tent was a mess. Over turned cots and clothing throw everywhere but no bodies or blood. It seemed that the machine gunner's sacrifice had paid off letting most of the soldiers station here escape. Mason walked back out into the rain and looked at the sun to see it setting quickly. Mason checked the tent next to the one the soldier had came from. This one was also empty with only a few things left behind the cots were even still set up. When they evaced they did it quickly taking only what they could grab quickly and what vehicles that ran.

"In here!" Mason shouted over his shoulder to Liz. She walked in happy to get out of the rain. Mason set his rucksack down on a cot the water already dripping off and onto the cot. He then found a battery powered lantern and turned it on, it casted a soft blue light inside the dark tent. Mason then helped Liz get her soaked poncho off and hung it up. He then removed his helmet, web gear, BDU jacket, pants and socks hanging them up so they could dry as well. He then took off his olive drab shirt so he wore only his boxers seeming to forget Liz was in there with him. He seemed to suddenly remember as he looked behind him to see her staring at him. He blushed as he quickly dug into his rucksack the water poof bag keeping the rest of his cloths dry. He pulled on another shirt and another pair of dry BDU pants. "Sorry." Mason mumbled.

"You have done nothing wrong," Liz said secretly wishing he would have stayed undressed. She then started to strip as well even though her cloths had remained mostly dry under the poncho's protection. Soon she wore only her undergarments her kind was known for and his boonie hat. Mason coughed awkwardly as he turned his attention back to the MRE's he was preparing. Once they were ready he took them over and placed them on an unclaimed cot and sat on the one next to it. Liz sat on the one across from the food and smiled happily at Mason. He smiled back as he looked at his knee it was swollen and tender to the touch. He then turned back to his MRE and the _rib shaped BBQ flavored 'pork' patty_.

"Why do you wear only that?" Mason asked blushing lightly again.

"I make deal," Liz said with a wicked smile. "You ask question I answer. Then I ask question you answer. Deal?"

"Yeah sure," Mason said.

"Ok," Liz said. "I wear only this." Liz pointing at her undergarments. "For I feel...I know it is the best way to attract-." She suddenly stopped clamping her mouth shut as Mason jerked up.

"Attract what?" Mason asked.

"Prey," Liz said sighing deeply. Mason's eyes widen when he realized she was right. The crying with the state of undress was what had drawn Baker in wanting to help a seemingly lost and poor survivor. Then there was the sick bastards that might have had something else on their minds.

"Oh," Was all Mason could think of to say.

"Why do you not like I wear this?" Liz asked.

"Well," Mason started his blush deepening. "You're a very beautiful...woman with large er..uhm nice...a good...prefect...beautiful body. And you shouldn't show it off to someone like me. Unless you...never mind. I just shouldn't see you almost naked is all."

"Do you not like me?" Liz asked cocking her head to the side.

"No," Mason said quickly his face only growing more red. "I mean I do like you but not in that way." The last part was a half lie.

"Oh," Liz said sadly dropping her gaze.

"No not like that either," Mason said quickly. "I mean you're very beautiful and if we had meet under different circumstances and you weren't a...I would ask you out in a heartbeat."

"You think I'm beautiful," Liz said slyly blushing a little.

"Yes," Mason admitted

"Ok," Liz said perking up again. "My question."

"You already ask me a question," Mason said.

"About your question," Liz explained. "You have seen dead warriors before?"

"Yes," Mason said.

"Why did seeing those dead ones outside make you feel sad?" Liz asked.

"Because I should be dead," Mason said somberly. Liz's eyes widened in confusion. "One of the first things they teach you when you arrive for basic training is your general orders. General order number one: _I will guard everything within the limits of my post and quit my post only when properly relieved_. If I would have followed that I would have been killed but I could have maybe saved the lives of others. Those four soldiers did that, gave their lives and saved countless others. Seeing them just reminded me that I'm a coward and a deserter."

"You are no coward," Liz said place a claw on the side of his face. The two locked eyes as they stared at each other. She them moved her face closer to him as he stared wide eyed. Before he could do anything or she could change her mind she placed a quick kiss on his lips. Her strangely soft and smooth lips lightly brushing his dry and cracked ones. "You save me many time." She then let go of him as his face burned a deep red.

"You should get some sleep," Mason said getting to his feet too quickly forgetting about his bad knee and almost fell down.

"What about you?" Liz asked as she moved so she was lying on the cot.

"I've got to stand watch," Mason said picking up his rifle and setting on a cot near the tent's flap. "We can't lock a door so I'll stand guard. You sleep though." Mason then preparing himself for a long argument with her.

"Ok," Liz said surprising him as she laid on her back and closed her eyes. Mason watched her and the way her chest rose and fell evenly making him think she was asleep. He then placed his rifle across his lap and stared at the tent flap. Mason rubbed his hurting knee through his pants, he couldn't let Liz know how much he was truly hurting. His head was pounding, his knee throbbed, his arm and shoulder were sore, his face stung and he felt a little feverish for staying out in the rain. He looked back at the tent flap to see his vision had changed as if he was looking at it through a tunnel. He could feel like his heart was start to slow and knew he was going to pass out.

"No," Mason grunted through gritted teeth. "I've got to stay awake, for her." But it was in vain as he blacked out falling to the gravel floor the tent was pitched on. Mason had finally succumbed to the exhaustion, wounds and sickness he had gotten recently. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to stay conscious and on his feet for that long. It spoke volumes about his true character and determination. Liz, who had never actually gone to sleep, got up and walked over to Mason. She picked him up and placed him back on the cot on his back.

"I will stand watch," Liz whispered. She then bent down and kissed him longer and passionately on the lips. In his current state he didn't wake up. "I love you." Liz whispered as she sat down on the cot. She then saw his flush cheeks and touched his forehead with the back of her hand. She could feel that he was running a fever and a kind of selfish, hopeful smile touched her lips. "You and me shall be the same soon." She whispered before she kissed him again. She then turned to watch the tent flap looking meaningfully at her claws.


	9. Fever dreams

John Mason, Johnny to his friends, sat in the small office that the high school let the Army recruiter use for the day. John was just 17 but like most kids of his generation he looked older, already 6 feet with pretty boy muscles(they looked good but didn't make him that strong). His brown hair was long but not saggy by any means, his hands were calluses showing he wasn't afraid of hard work and his eyes were bright with hope. Those eyes were quickly sweeping though the pamphlet the recruiter had given him. The recruiter was a well built man in his late 20s dressed in a freshly pressed and ironed uniform with polished boots. He had a kind smile and charming, likeable air about him.

"So what do you think?" The Recruiter asked leaning back in the cheap office chair and pressing his finger tips together.

"Well," John said a little unsure not about enlisting, for he wanted to, but on what he was going to choose as his job. The pamphlet listed several that offered an enlistment bonus. The recruiter was good at his job and picked up on the uncertainty in John's voice and miss took it as him not sure if he was going to enlist or not.

"Along with the GI Bill that completely pays for your education there are other benefits as well," The Recruiter explained. "You get full health care under Tricare and life insurance, and at 17 that's not bad. Then once you do get a place of your own you get basic housing allowance each month."

"That's great but I just can't decide what job I want," John said.

"Oh," The Recruiter said a pleased smile on his face. "We didn't you just say so? Anything you have your eye on? There are plenty more MOSs the ones in the pamphlet are just the ones that officer an enlistment bonus."

"I was kind of leaning towards the 11 B," John said pointing at one of the jobs on the pamphlet after laying it down on the table. The recruiter's smile wavered slightly for half a second before he returned it to its warm glow.

"11 Bravo huh," The Recruiter said rubbing his chin. "Infantryman. They have one mission: find the enemy, engage him and kill them. Is that something you would want to do? If there is a war, and with the way things are in the Middle East right now that is very likely, you'll be seeing some true combat." John envisioned himself in full battle rattle holding a badass looking weapon walking into a desert village. He pictured the women of said village running up to him and thanking him for liberating them. Next he saw himself marching when he got back home in a victory parade passing hundreds of cheering people.

"Yes that's what I want," John said tapping the job on the pamphlet.

"I'll start getting the paper work together," The Recruiter said standing up causing John to as well. "Now since you are just 17, you're a senior right?"

"Yes sir," John said with a single nod.

"Because you are 17," The Recruiter began again. "You'll need your parents to sign a weaver. That's not going to be an issue is it?"

"Not at all," John said.

"Outstanding," The Recruiter said happily. "I'll get the paper work and bring it over so your parents can look it over and sign it. What day works good for you?"

"Tonight," John said.

"Well alright," The Recruiter said with a quick chuckle. "I think I can make that happen. You'll ship to basic pretty much right after your graduation. Welcome to the Army Private Mason." The recruiter extended his hand for John to shake and he did. When John pulled it back he felt something slimly and wet on it and looked down at them and saw his hands were covered in mud.

Private Mason stared down at his hands as they were pushed inadvertently deeper into the mud and muck by the weight of his own body.The rain had soaked his uniform all the way through and was rolling off his closely buzzed head. Mason stole a quick glance to his left and right and saw more fellow recruits also in the push-up position holding it as the rain hammered them. Mason's arms were burning and he tried to relieve some weight off of them by leaning back slightly placing more weight on his legs rising his butt into the air slightly. A drill sergeant was on him instantly.

"ARE YOU GAY PRIVATE!?" He bellowed leaning down to shout at Mason's ear rain dripping off his brimmed hat.

"No drill sergeant!" Mason shouted still looking at his mud covered hands.

"YOU WANT A DICK IN YOUR ASS PRIVATE!?" The drill sergeant shouted touching the side of Mason's head with the brim of his hat.

"No drill sergeant!" Mason shouted again.

"THEN GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT OF THE AIR!" He shouted using a mud covered boot to stomp on Mason's butt shoving it down. "How old are you private?" The drill sergeant asked after getting Mason back in to the correct push-up position.

"17 drill sergeant!" Mason shouted rolling his head trying to take his mind off his burning arms.

"Holy fucking shit!" The drill sergeant said standing back up. "You ever fuck a woman private?"

"Not yet drill sergeant!" Mason admitted.

"THEN HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT GAY THEN!?" The drill sergeant demanded.

"I guess I don't drill sergeant!" Mason admitted again, knowing it would be much worse for him if he tried to argue or reason with a drill sergeant.

"You stay the fuck away from me then!" The drill sergeant ordered.

"Roger drill sergeant!" Mason said his arms starting to shake. The drill sergeant then started to walk around the platoon as they remained in the front leaning rest.

"Gentlemen!" The drill sergeant shouted to be heard by all this time. "Right now most of you are hurting! Do not worry privates pain is only in the mind! Your body is much stronger than your mind gives it credit for! Your body doesn't quit you, you quit your body! Now are you ready to get out of the rain?"

"YES DRILL SERGEANT!" The platoon shouted as one.

"Then let me hear the soldier's creed loud and thunderous!" The drill sergeant said still pacing in the rain. "You do that and do it right I'll let you recover! The soldier's creed!"

"THE SOLDIER'S CREED!" The recruits shouted in unison. "I am an American soldier! I am warrior and a member of a team! I sever the people of the United States and live the Army values! I always place the mission first! I will never accept defeat! I will never quit! I will never leave a fallen comrade! I am disciplined physical and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills! I always maintain my arms my equipment and myself! I am and expert and I am an professional! I stand ready to deploy, engage and DESTROY the enemies of the United States of America in close combat! I am a guardian of freedom and the American way of life! I AM AN AMERICAN SOLDIER!"

"Alright recover!" The drill sergeant ordered he then walked over and stood in front of Mason. "You want to be a soldier boy?" He asked.

"Yes drill sergeant!" Mason shouted.

"Then you came to the right fucking place," The drill sergeant said. "I'll make a soldier out of you yet."

"Thank you drill sergeant!" Mason shouted.

"Don't thank me!" The drill sergeant shouted turning around and walking away. "Thank your whore mother and recruiter!" Mason watched as he walked away. "FALL IN!" The drill sergeant shouted still walking wanting the recruits to follow him and make a formation where he stopped. Mason started to run knowing better then to walk and keep a drill sergeant waiting. They all started to run but no matter how fast he ran Mason couldn't catch up to the drill sergeant. That's when he heard a steady and rhythmic whump, whump of boots hitting concrete instead of sand.

Private Mason found himself in a formation run, jogging at a slow pace wearing a clean and pressed uniform and it was a bright, sunny cool day. However he didn't recognized the other recruits' faces that were in the formation from basic. He did however recognize the red berets that they, and he himself, wore on their heads. He was running in the company run the morning before graduation from airborne school. It was a two mile easy run that ended at the pride field where their families waited and they would get their jump wings pined on. The drill sergeant leading the run started singing a cadence the rest of the formation joining in.

"When I get to heaven! Saint Peters gonna saaaayyyy!" They sang loudly and cheerfully. "How'd you earn your livin' boy! How'd you earn your paaaaayyyy! I'll reply with a whole lot anger! Made my livin' as Airborne Ranger! Blood! Guts! Sex and danger! That's the life of an Airborne Ranger!...When I get to hell! Satan's gonna saaaayyyy! How'd you earn your livin' boy! How'd you earn your paaaayyyy! I'll reply with a boot to his chest! By putting souls to rest! Blood! Guts! Sex and danger! That's the life of an Airborne Ranger!" They came to a sudden halt and Mason watched as everything grew dark and the soldier in front of him started to change.

The normally woodland camo scheme he wore was slowly replaced with desert BDUs. He then suddenly wore a very large looking pack on his back. Mason suddenly found himself in a single file line also wearing desert BDUs, large pack and in full battle rattle. A rifle was strapped tightly to an equipment pack that was strapped to his front and hung a little below his waist. It was very loud, where ever he was, as a dull roar was all he could hear and very dark. The only light was a dime red glow every few feet above his head.

"Sound off!" A voice shouted unseen from somewhere ahead of him.

"Six, four ok!" Someone shouted from behind him.

"Six, three ok!" Someone else shouted still behind him. The numbers continued to go down till the soldier right behind Mason shouted.

"Two, three ok!" He shouted.

"Two, two ok!" Mason shouted without hesitation. He knew what this was then as he looked up to the steel cable hanging above his head that a static line was hooked to that was attached to his parachute. This was going to be his first combat jump as a paratrooper part of the 82nd.

"Alright get ready!" The voice in front shouted. Then the roar, that was the plane's engines increased and a gust of cold air rushed in as the door was opened. The red lights turned green then. "Go!" The voice shouted. The line shuffled forward forcing Mason to take a step forward as well. "Go!" The line moved again. This continued till Mason was able to see the Jump Mater standing beside the open door gesturing at Mason to step up. Mason moved so he was standing in the doorway placing a hand on either side of the opening. He then squatted down some sticking his butt out a little as he prepared to exit. He looked out the door into the pitch black night secretly grateful that he couldn't see the ground. The night air rushing by tugged at his uniform causing it to flap where ever it hung loose on him. It would have also caused his eyes to water if it wasn't for the goggles pulled tight to his face. Mason felt the Jump Mater lightly place a hand on his shoulders above his parachute and he knew what was coming next.

"Go!" The Jump Master shouted firmly shoving Mason from behind. He pulled with his arms as he literally jumped with his legs up and out of the aircraft. As soon as his feet left the ground and his body was exiting the plane his training took over. He crossed his arms and hugged them tightly to his chest as he extended his legs while lifting them up so his body formed an L. Once he entered the icy blast the only thing he could hear was the rushing wind and the roar of the plane's engines. He wasn't able to see it but he felt the C-130 pass him by as he fell through the night sky. Mason's stomach jumped up into his throat as he felt the sickening feeling of free fall as his heart hammered in his chest. He counted loudly inside his head: One onethousand, two onethousand, three onethousand, four onethousand, five onethousand.

Mason was suddenly and forcefully jerked upwards as he failed to keep his legs in the shape of an L. His parachute had opened slowing his descent and giving him mild whiplash. He swung helplessly in the air for a bit as he flailed his legs a bit before he brought them together and straighten them, getting into the proper form. That complete he uncrossed his arms as he started to gently fall instead of hurtle towards the ground. Mason reached up turning on the NVGs that were clipped to his helmet before pulling them down so they were press tight to his dust goggles. The black night suddenly glowed a bright green and he was able to see the rest of the platoon's parachutes as they fell towards the ground below. After the goggles were pressed to his eyes Mason reached up and grabbed the risers to guide himself.

He looked down towards the ground and saw a bright flashing light coming from it. He knew it was an IR strobe that emitted a light that could only be seen in night vision. While still looking down Mason used the risers to guide himself towards the IR strobe that marked the DZ. Despite the parachute he was approaching the ground rather fast and soon in the green of his goggles he was able to see already landed soldiers milling below him. Good old military parachutes they slowed you just enough so you(usually) didn't shatter your spine on impact. Mason saw the ground coming up to greet him and sprung into action. He pulled the tab on his equipment pack causing it to fall below his feet hanging by a single strap. He then pulled both risers as hard as he could this slowed him down just a little more.

Mason's equipment pack hit the ground first closely followed by his feet. Instead of keeping his legs straight and try to take the impact he let his legs collapse and fold in. He let himself fall backwards and to the side so the next thing that hit was his butt followed by his back. The last thing to hit was his shoulder blades as he tucked his chin to his chest to keep his head from hitting the ground. After he had landed Mason quickly got to his knees and grabbed a hold of his parachute's cables to start wrapping it up so it wouldn't blow away. Once he had it in a bundle he pulled the quick release and removed the parachute entirely. Next he placed it in the pile of other bundled parachutes before making it over to his equipment pack. He removed the rifle, put on the fully loaded web gear, and placed the assault pack on to his back. Mason then followed the other soldiers as they jogged towards their platoon's rally points.

As he ran to catch up with his fellow soldiers the green of his NVGs changed to the bright desert sun. Instead of an entire company of soldiers milling around it was a large squad small platoon worth. Mason found he no longer wore his NVGs, in fact they weren't clipped to his helmet anymore. He dust goggles were still pressed tightly over his eyes to keep the sand from blowing into them. His rifle felt heavier and bulker in his hands now and he saw why. It now had an under barrel M203 attached to it making him a grenadier, this made even clearer by the various 40mm shells on his web gear. The once barren landscape now had a village in the middle of it and that was where they were walking to. The Humvees they had taken to said village were behind them, Mason couldn't see them but knew they were there none the less.

"Alright PSD," Sergeant Woodsmen shouted as they walked in a modified wedge towards the village. "Once we reach the village the LT is going to meet with the elders inside the market place. It will be myself and Sergeant Palmer and the four members of Bravo team inside with the LT. The rest of you will form 360 security along the outside. Sergeant Hood will have command of the outside forces. Alright let's get it done." No buddy said anything for they didn't have to, they knew their roles. Mason already had his cover picked out the corner of a hut that a wall ran adjacent to. His battle buddy, a riflemen Private Jackson would take up a spot on the wall opposite of Mason to cover his six. As they neared the village Mason could see the locals running inside and shutting doors and windows. All expect three older men that were walking towards the Lieutenant. He was easy enough to spot for he was the lightest equipped and his RO was never far from his side.

Once they reached the edge of the village Sergeant Hood gave a short sharp whistle that caused his team members to look at him. He gave the hand sign to take cover and his team snapped into action. Mason looked at Jackson the two locked eyes for half a second before they broke out into a jog heading towards their predetermined locations. Once Mason reach his spot he took cover so most of his body was behind the hut, rifle halfway up and scanning the area 180 degrees in front of him. Jackson was behind Mason crouching behind the wall covering his six rifle resting on the wall itself. The rest of Alpha team spread out inside the village as Charlie moved to surround the village keeping a good distance away. Meanwhile Bravo and the LT had reached the three men and they all shook hands before the village elders lead them towards the hut Mason was taking cover by. They lead them inside using a door that was by Mason having to pass him to go inside. Sergeant Woodsmen was the last one in and he spook to Mason just before he entered.

"Private no one is to enter or leave this building is that understood?" Woodsmen asked.

"Yes sergeant," Mason said sweat caused by the sun pouring from under his helmet and pooling on top of his goggles.

"Outstanding," Woodsmen said as he entered the hut and shut the door. Mason went back to scanning for threats sweat soaking his uniform his rifle starting to grow very heavy. 15 minutes had passed according to Mason's watch and his eyes had just landed on a cluster of rocks outside the village partially up a hill. He saw sunlight glisten off of something in the middle of the cluster. Suddenly a rifle's report echoed across the once quiet landscape. Mason reacted quickly ducking completely behind the hut and dropping to his stomach.

"Jackson you ok?!" Mason shouted without looking away from the cluster of rocks. Once Jackson didn't respond. "Jackson?!" Mason turned to look behind him and saw Jackson laying on his back blood starting to pool around him. "Jackson!" Mason cried as the private tried to raise himself into a sitting position. "DON'T FUCKING MOVE!" Jackson immediately dropped back down laying on his back again. Mason knew that if he moved the sniper would just shoot Jackson again and if he left cover to grab Jackson the sniper would likely hit him. Then there would be two wounded soldiers that would need to be dragged to safety only adding to the problem.

"Did anyone see where it came from?!" Hood demanded as the rest of the team hunkered down behind cover. "Is anyone hit!?"

"Jackson's hit!" Mason shouted. "Shooter's at my 12, 400 meters! In that rock cluster!" As if the sniper had heard Mason there was another report followed by a wiz as it just missed another soldier as he raised his head up to peek at where Mason had indicated. The soldier dropped flat again as another round wizzed by him. Mason moved to a crouch keeping himself behind the hut as some of the soldiers started to fire at the rocks to suppress the sniper. Mason slid open his grenade launcher and slipped in a 40mm HE round. He then flipped up the launcher's sights and changed the range to 400 meters. Mason peeked out tilted his rifle up lining up the front and rear sights, exhaled, placed the rifle's stock against his right hip and pulled the trigger.

There was a sold thunck as the grenade flew out of the launcher the rifle kicking back slightly. Mason tracked it as it flew through the air but quickly lost it in the sun and only managed to find it again once it landed. The explosion was much louder than the sniper's reports and it had landed squarely in the middle of the rock cluster. Mason slid open the launcher letting the spent smoking round drop to the dirt before loading a second HE round. He took a little longer to aim this time and fired again this one landing slightly to the right of the first one.

"Peterson! Johnson!" Hood shouted. "Go confirm the kill the rest of you cover them. Hudson go check on Jackson!" After Mason had ejected the second spent shell he grabbed Jackson and pulled him behind the hut. He had removed Jackson's body armor to better assess the wound when someone knelt beside him. It was Hudson the squad medic and he quickly shoved Mason out of the way so he could look Jackson over.

"He's needs evac and soon," Hudson said pulling the backing on a dressing off. "Go inform the LT we need med evac." Hudson ordered as he placed the dressing on the exit wound on Jackson's chest. The sniper had used armor piercing rounds, where he got them could only be guess at, and had punched right trough Jackson's body armor. It was lucky for Jackson because the round didn't mushroom but had gone clean through. He was also unlucky that it had pierced a lung and now he had a sucking chest round and need to get on a ventilator ASAP.

"You got it," Mason said scrambling to his feet rushing up to the door forgetting about what Woodsmen had said. Mason crashed into the hut and started talking before he even brought his head up having ducked it to barrel through the door. "Sir we need med evac now we have a man down by an enemy sniper. Enemy shooter is believed to be down and we're going to confirm now." His report compete Mason brought his head up and gasped at the sight before him. All the member of Bravo team each had a woman on the floor and they were...god they were rapping them while the three village elders where held at gun point by the Lieutenant. Mason had frozen in shock but it was starting to fade as he started to bring his rifle up to react. That's when he felt two large hands grab his shoulders from behind. They pulled him back and slammed his back forcefully into the wall near the door. A forearm was pressed tightly across his throat as the other hand grabbed Mason's right wrist and held it against the wall. The arms and hands belong to the hulking form of Sergeant Woodsmen who wore a sneer as his eyes burned into Mason's.

"I thought I told you no one was to come in or out!" Woodsmen growled.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mason asked weakly due to the forearm cutting down on his air supply.

"The spoils of war private," Woodsmen said darkly. Mason looked around Woodsmen and saw a Bravo team member push a woman's head into the ground as he thrust into her.

"This is fucking wrong," Mason crocked. "You can't do this."

"The fuck we can't," Woodsmen growled leaning in closer. "Who's going to stop us?" He pushed his forearm harder into Mason's throat causing his vision to narrow. "You?"

"If I have to," Mason said even weaker as his vision started to cloud. Woodsmen pulled his arm back slightly so Mason didn't pass out so he would be able to hear what he had to say.

"Listen very closely private," Woodsmen growled in an almost whisper. "They are the enemy and deserve nothing less."

"It still doesn't make it right," Mason croaked.

"The only people that know about this event are in this room," Woodsmen explained laying it out for Mason. "They aren't going to say anything and that just leaves you. I would hate for you to have an 'accident' before we made it back to base. Also I hear you need med evac I would also hate for them not to be able to make it time to save Jackson's life. You have a choice to make private: Your enemy's well being or the life of a comrade. Choose wisely because you won't just condemn yourself but him as well. Is that what you want on your conscience?"

"No," Mason admitted dropping his gaze.

"Then get the fuck out of here, tell no one and you'll get your med evac," Woodsmen growled finally removing his forearm from Mason's neck letting him slump down. "Go get out of here private." Mason took a step back and tighten his grip on his rifle Woodsmen saw this. He yanked his pistol from his holster and aimed it loosely at Mason. "Don't do anything stupid private." Mason said nothing but turned around and walked back outside shutting the door behind him. He walked over and knelt next to Jackson, Hudson had him stabilized for the moment.

"Hang on buddy help's on the way," Mason reassured patting Jackson on the shoulder. But at what cost? Mason thought looking back towards the doorway wishing he could do something, did do something to begin with.

Outside of Mason's dream world Liz looked at him with real concern as she sat on his cot looking down at him. His body was covered in a cold sweat, his face and cheeks were flushed from the fever but he was shivering as if he was cold. Liz dipped the washcloth into the bowl filled with cool water before gently dabbing Mason's forehead with it. She didn't know why but she just knew that this action was connected with his sickness and would at least help ease his pain. She had been wrong earlier when she thought him infected, he was sick but he wasn't _sick. _So if he did die he would be lost forever and wouldn't come back as an infected. She also knew if this happened the crushing despair that pledged her kind, that he kept at bay, would return instantly. If any infected or survivors found their way inside this tent they would see a dead soldier lying on a cot. Just another crying Witch her arms wrapped around his body head buried into his unmoving chest.

Liz went to wet the cloth again and saw the bowl was dry. She would need to fill it but before she did, she picked up one of his canteens. She then placed a hand behind Mason's back and gently lifted him into a sitting position causing him to open his mouth slightly. Liz placed the canteen up to Mason's lips and poured a little water into his mouth and throat, like she had many times before. That complete she laid him back down before pouring more water from the canteen into the bowl. She dabbed his forehead again concern in her face, it had been nearly two days since he had been out. She had been giving him water sure and to keep his fever down had even stripped him so he only wore a shirt and his boxers but she was going to need to figure out a way to feed him food soon if he didn't wake up.

Liz stood up and walked out of the tent, she hated leaving his side but hated seeing him like that even more. A single tear formed in her right eye and worked its way down her cheek. No, she thought knowing if she started there would be no stopping it. I must be strong for him. He was strong for you when you needed him now you must be strong for him because he needs you now, she thought balling her claws into fists. He is indeed strong and he will get over whatever this is. Now you need to get back in there and protect him like he protected you. With that last thought echoing through her mind Liz walked back into the tent and stopped dead in her tracks. For standing over Mason was a figure wearing a hooded sweat shirt, its back to Liz staring down at Mason.

"It almost doesn't seem fair," The figure said in a strangely familiar feminine tone. That's when Liz realized it was the female hunter they had encountered before. "Taking him on when he's weak like this." Liz started to take a step forward a low growl escaping her throat when the Hunter turned to face her. She had a single sharp claw pressed to Mason's throat as he still lay passed out. "Stay where you are bitch." Liz stopped in her tracks again but continued to growl. The two locked eyes waiting to see what the other would do.

"He's not weak," Liz said when she didn't know what else to do.

"What?" The Hunter demanded cocking her head to the side slightly.

"He's not weak," Liz repeated. "He's strong."

"I know," The Hunter said using her free hand to touch the side of her face he had beat on. It was already almost completely healed. "But atlases he is infected now. I hope he becomes like me so he may replace my mate he killed."

"No," Liz growled. The thought of him with another female angered her greatly even though he didn't think of her in that way. "I mean." Liz said after she regained some of her composer. "Surely you can tell that he is sick but not infected." The Hunter looked down at Mason again. Liz was right she knew the human was indeed sick but he wasn't infected, yet she still hadn't killed him and she didn't know why.

"Then I should just kill him," The Hunter growled her mouth twisted into a sneer showing her many jagged teeth. "Then you may know what it's like to lose your mate." Liz growled as she stepped closer the Hunter pressing her claw deeper into Mason's neck. Liz stopped again unsure of what to do anger and despair welling up inside of her chest.

"Sarah?" A voice asked weakly taking both female infected by surprise. It was Mason who was looking up at the Hunter his vision still cloudy due to his fever. "What are you doing here? The desert is no place for you." Mason was still out of it thinking the Hunter was his girlfriend and that he was still in the Middle East. Both infected stared at Mason stunned unsure of what to do when he reached up and grabbed the Hunter's arm that held the claw to his throat. "I don't care I'm just happy to see you." He then pulled down on the Hunter's arm suddenly causing her to bend over and pulled her into a tight hug. Liz watched this and knew he only did this because of his sickness but jealousy still grew within her. The Hunter was just shocked and didn't know what to do but didn't find the hug that unpleasant. Mason let go of her letting her stand back up as Mason looked at her and smiled. The Hunter was completely taken back and wanted to tell him she was not this Sarah but she remembered very little of her human language and couldn't form the words.

"Here," Mason said as he fished around under his shirt till he pulled his dog tags from around his neck. He then grabbed the Hunter's hand and turned it over so her palm was up. He placed his dog tags in her hand and gently closed his hand over hers. "I want you to have these. You know in case anything happens to me." With that he rolled back onto his back and pass out again. This left the Hunter completely stunned and Liz livid with both Mason and the Hunter, mainly the Hunter. The Hunter was too busy staring at what he had put in her hands then to see Liz approach. Once Liz had reached the Hunter she lashed out slashing her across the face. The Hunter hissed in both anger and pain before crouching down and jumping. Liz brought her hands up to shield herself but the Hunter hadn't been aiming at her.

She had been aiming at the hole she had cut into the tent's canvas roof to get in and jumped out. Liz lashed out again but only managed to hit air. She rushed out of the tent hopping to catch the Hunter but she was already gone. Liz moved back into the tent and sat down next to Mason again. She stared at him just before she kissed him and when she pulled back he was now smiling. This caused her to think and hope he was getting better and would wake up soon, for good. I will never leave your side again, she thought as she dabbed his forehead with the washcloth again.


End file.
